


You Are A Great Deal of Trouble, Miss Lehane.

by steeleye



Series: Military Faith. [13]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Commander in Chief, The Wind and the Lion (movie)
Genre: Gen, Humour, Military, action adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: A Military Faith story; “Things are changing,” El Raisuli sighed sadly, “nothing is as it was, everything is shifting on the wind; but you, Miss Lehane, will always be a great deal of trouble.”





	1. Chapter 1

You Are A Great Deal of Trouble, Miss Lehane.

By Dave Turner.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or ‘Commander in Chief’ or ‘The Wind and the Lion’ or anything else you might recognise. I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** The movie, ‘The Wind and the Lion’ and the TV series, ‘Commander in Chief’.

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar:** Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

 **Timeline:** November 2009.

 **Words:** Twelve chapters each of 2500+ words.

 **Warnings:** Violence and harsh language.

 **Summary:** A Military Faith story; “Things are changing,” El Raisuli sighed sadly, “nothing is as it was, everything is shifting on the wind; but you, Miss Lehane, will always be a great deal of trouble.”

0=0=0=0

_Where are you this moment  
Only in my dreams  
You're missing, but you're always  
a heartbeat from me.  
I’m lost now without you,  
I don’t know where you are  
I keep watching I keep hoping  
But time keeps us apart._

_If I could be close beside you,  
If I could be where you are,  
If I could reach out and touch you,  
And bring you back home._

_Is there a way I can find you?  
Is there a sign I should know?  
Is there a road I could follow,  
to bring you back home?_

‘If I Could Be Where You Are’, written by Roma Ryan and performed by Enya.

0=0=0=0

1.

**LA, early October, 1999.**

Standing on the sidewalk in the early morning sunshine, Cordelia Chase asked herself once again if she was doing the right thing. Of course she was, she answered herself almost immediately, what other choices had she got? None that she liked and that was for sure; a bleak future of either starving or something in the ‘adult’ film industry appeared to be her only alternatives.

Having left Sunnydale with such high hopes of making it big in ‘Tinsel-town’, Cordelia had had her hopes quickly and comprehensively crushed. It seemed that the world wasn’t ready for the talent that was Cordelia Chase. Okay so she’d got herself an agent, but that hadn’t helped, not really. A long line of failed auditions trailed out behind her like a ball and chain. Eventually directors had told her agent to stop sending her. With her money almost gone she’d started to go to the parties that she was still invited to just to get something to eat.

One of the things you could say about Cordelia was that deep down, were it counted the most, she was a realist; she knew exactly what would happen to her if she didn’t change what she was doing. One night at one of these parties some old guy was going to offer her a part, or maybe just money, if she’d sleep with him and she knew that she’d say ‘yes’. Principles were all fine and dandy when you’d got a full belly.

So, this was why she, Cordelia Chase, was standing outside a Marine recruitment office in a not very nice part of LA. The office looked like it had once been a shop, in fact in the window stood two shop dummies; one, a guy, dressed up in full combat gear. The other, a female dummy, was dressed in a less warlike outfit, Cordy told herself that it didn’t look so bad. 

Of course this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing; Cordy had spent a few of her precious, remaining dollars in an internet café to research the United States Marine Corps online. After reading about the history of the Corps, she’d next checked out the USMC website itself. Looking at the opportunities the Corps could offer her she decided that the Marines were the people for her and best of all, she’d look _real hot_ in those dress blues.

The prospect of all the tough training didn’t frighten her, she’d been a cheerleader since junior high, she’d had her fair share of injuries; the prospect of climbing over walls and running around didn’t frighten her. As for the more classroom orientated stuff, she knew that she could handle anything the Marine Corps could throw at her. This, Cordelia decided, was going to be easy…of course everyone has a right to be wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia walked up to the door, pushed it open and walked inside. To her left was an older man sitting behind a desk. He looked majorly smart to Cordy’s eyes with his crisp uniform and rows of medal ribbons. Ahead of her sat a woman, Cordy thought she might be an officer, who was working at another desk. Looking at the young woman, Cordy decided that her uniform didn’t look so bad either, perhaps things would turn out alright after all. Unsure who to speak to, Cordy hesitated for a moment; she was saved from her indecision when the older Marine stood up and held out his hand to her.

“Good morning,” he clasped Cordy’s hand in a firm and somehow comforting handshake, “why don’t you sit down and tell me how I can help you?”

Cordy sat down and for a moment and found she didn’t know what to say, again the Marine came to her rescue; he smiled at her in a fatherly sort of way.

“You were standing outside there for so long I thought you’d never come in,” he smiled.

“Was I that obvious?” Cordy asked with a frown.

“Sort of,” agreed the Marine, “but you look like the sort of young woman who thinks things through before making a decision…”

“You think?” Cordy laughed at herself.

“So,” the old Marine clasped his hands together and leaned towards Cordy, “tell me what the Marine Corps can do to help you?”

0=0=0=0

**Somewhere over the Yemalian Desert, Summer 2009.**

“So,” Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at her door gunner, “what’s the first thing you’re going do when you get home, Sarge?”

This would be their last mission in Yemalia, Cordy just had to fly her UH1 out to a base in the desert, pick up the last few Marines still out there and then it was out to the good old Vera-Cee and then back home to the States.

“Whadda ya think, L-t?” laughed Sergeant Bevin, “Then after that I’ll take my boots off!”

“Yeah that’s right,” Cordy laughed as she shot her co-pilot, 2nd Lt Mueller, a look “you’re a married man…how many kids is it now?”

“Three, L-t,” Bevin replied, he’d missed his wife and his kids more than ever this deployment.

“And how many overseas deployments have you been on, Sergeant?” Cordy asked with a wicked grin.

“Three,” Bevin admitted.

“I can see a pattern developing,” Frank Mueller announced.

“A pattern!?” Cordy laughed, “More like a population explosion don’t you mean?”

“Yeah okay,” Bevin continued, letting the good natured hazing of his pilot slide off him like water off a duck’s back, “so, L-t whatta you gonna do ya first night back?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Cordy gazed out of the windshield as the Yemali desert slipped by underneath her, “a nice long, hot shower followed by an early night and a good book…or maybe even a movie…”

“Yeah right,” Bevin scoffed as Mueller laughed out loud.

“Hey,” Cordy glanced into the back of the chopper again, “a lady never tells…”

Before she could follow her words up with some other witty comment there was a terrific *BANG!* from the rear of the helicopter.

“Hold on!” Cordy cried as the chopper began to spin and head for the desert below them.

Struggling with the controls, Cordy realised what had happened; they’d been hit by an RPG or SAM and the tail rotor had been blown off or damaged. They were now dropping like a stone towards the desert floor and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Mayday, mayday, this is Sierra Six-nine going down,” just for a moment Cordelia found herself smiling at her stupid call-sign and what she’d just said. “Hell with this,” Cordy fought to keep the spin on her chopper to a manageable level, if she could land this thing there was a chance they’d survive, “Hello Victor-Charlie this is Valkyrie, I’ve been hit and I’m going down about half way between Camp Foxtrot and…”

The helicopter hit the desert before Cordelia could finish her message. The UH1 started to topple over on to its side almost as soon as it landed. The main rotors hit the sandy soil and threw up great clouds of dust and stones. A part of Cordy’s mind told her that she and her crew wouldn’t be going anywhere in this bird any time soon. Her world dissolved into one of dust, sand, lumps of rock and scrub, smoke and pain. There was a sharp pain in her legs followed by darkness.

0=0=0=0

Waking up, Cordy found that, much to her amazement, she was still alive although she was beginning to think that wasn’t such a good thing. It felt like both her legs had been broken. Turning her head, a wave of nausea made her wish she hadn’t as she saw the lifeless body of her co-pilot still hanging in his seat from his safety harness. A piece of rotor blade had taken his head clean off. Struggling to see into the back of the chopper she turned and found the cargo area empty, there was no sign of Sergeant Bevin.

“Shit! Damn!” Cordy gasped, Bevin must have been thrown out of the chopper and killed, Cordy imagined the look on Ruth Bevin’s face when Cordy had to tell her how her husband had died, “God-damn-it!” Cordy brushed the tear from her cheek and then tried her radio again.

“Victor-Charlie, Victor-Charlie this is Valkyrie, I’m…” the words died on Cordy’s lips as she realised her radio was dead, there wasn’t even any static. “Oh my life just gets better and better,” she complained, “but, at least I’m alive…” it was about then that she heard voices approaching her position through the bush, “…yeah, me and my big mouth!”

Searching for her pistol, Cordy just managed to pull it from its holster in time to have it snatched from her hand by a local rebel. Strong brown hands reached into the shattered flightdeck and grabbed hold of her. Pulled roughly from her seat she screamed as the broken ends of the bones in her legs were jarred and rubbed together. Almost passing out from the pain she could feel herself being dragged across the sand away from the wreck. Her flight helmet was pulled off roughly almost taking her head with it. When the rebels saw her long hair and realised she was a woman a great shout went up from the throats of the men as they started to pull open her flight suit.

Lying there helplessly as what felt like hundreds of hands pulled at her clothes and mauled her body, Cordelia started to cry, was this it? Was this how a promising career in the Marine Corps was going to end; was her journey from Sunnydale going to end here in a stinking desert, gang raped to death by a bunch of savages? She had so much left to do, so much left to give, so much…

The burst of gunfire caused the men who were abusing her to stop what they were doing and back off. Managing to turn her head slightly, Cordy saw a tall Arab dressed in mismatched pieces of camouflaged uniform step into her field of vision. The man gazed at the rebel fighters as if they were the lowest sort of bugs you could imagine, the look he gave her wasn’t that much better, but at least he hadn’t pointed his AK 47 at her or looked as if he was going to rape her any time soon.

“This infidel woman,” the Arab spoke loudly in the kind of voice that expected to be obeyed, “belongs to Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli, Lord of the Riff, and he wants her alive.”

Moments later, Cordy found herself being lifted, none too gently, onto a stretcher. There was a sharp pain in her right thigh as someone injected her with morphine and she felt herself being lifted up. The big Arab came to stand next to her stretcher; he reached out and took hold of Cordelia’s collar to read her rank badges.

“Do not worry Lef-tenant,” Cordy noted that he’d pronounced Lieutenant like a Brit would, “I am Gayaan, who some call ‘the Terrible’, I have killed more that forty men with my knife but never,” Gayaan the Terrible smiled down at Cordy (which didn’t exactly fill her with confidence), “but never have I killed a woman…”

“Good to know,” Cordy mumbled.

“My Master, el Raisuli has plans for you,” Gayaan’s smile got wider, “you will be safe and well treated, now rest…”

“Get no argument from me,” Cordy smiled as the morphine took control of her body and she fell into a deep sleep.”

0=0=0=0

**Mogador International Airport, Yemalia, January 2010.**

Sitting on her stool in the airport bar, Faith sipped her tonic water before glancing at her watch. In another few minutes her target would arrive; they’d share a drink then they’d go back to Faith’s hotel room. There Faith’d quietly slip her dagger between the Houri’s ribs and kill her just like she’d been asked to by the CIA.

The thought that she might be betraying the girl-demon into thinking that she was just another lover didn’t bother Faith; she knew all about betrayal. General Brittles, Colonel Finn, Buffy Finn and worst of all Willow, Willow’s betrayal had hurt the most. They’d all known about her past before she’d been in a coma for eight months and they’d never told her anything about it after she’d woken up with amnesia. But now they were all paying for their silence, one way or another.

The doctors had said that the memory loss was probably a by product of the things that Professor Walsh had done to her as she’d turned Faith into a Frankenstein experiment, a Super-Soldier to be sent on missions too dangerous for normal soldiers. Of course now the memories had come back, some stuff was still a little hazy but what was crystal clear was the way Willow had betrayed her. After two years of being together why couldn’t she have just explained? Why had she tried to keep the secret that it seemed everyone but Faith had known?

A light touch on Faith’s arm made her turn her head to see the girl smiling into her eyes, her target had arrived. The girl; no, Faith reminded herself that this ‘girl’ was in fact a demon who’d killed several American agents, was indeed beautiful. Her big brown eyes were like liquid pools that Faith felt herself start to drown in. Taking a deep breath Faith snapped back to the here and now. Deep down she knew it was all part of the demon’s seductive spell and if she fell for it she’d just end up another dead agent…but; but there was no reason not to have a little fun first.

After a couple of drinks and some small talk the Houri suggested that they might go somewhere more private so ‘they could get to know each other better’. Going outside into the street Faith called for a cab to take them to her hotel on the sea front. In the cab there was more talk and touching. By the time they arrived at Faith’s hotel the demon-girl must have thought that Faith was well under her spell. Going up to Faith’s room they almost tore each other’s clothes off before falling into bed.

0=0=0=0

After their bout of frantic love making the two young women got up from the sweat damp sheets and headed for the shower. There under the hot water, Faith slipped her knife between the girl’s ribs. Watching the surprised look in the girl’s eyes as she died, Faith felt nothing. No remorse, no pity, she’d simply completed the mission she’d been given. Tomorrow she’d report in to the CIA section head on a mission successfully completed. By the end of the day she’d be on a flight back to the States, once there she’d take the weekend to go visit her Mom and Dad in Washington DC.

Resting the body on the floor of the bathroom, Faith washed the blood off herself and her knife. Giving the dead Houri one last look she grabbed some towels before going back into her bedroom to dry off and dress, the sooner she was out of here the better.

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

2.

**A Vehicle Control Point on Highway I-2, north of Mogador, Yemalia.**

Dabbing at his face with a handkerchief Captain Jing Zhiyuan of the PRC’s Military Mission to Yemalia looked up and down the highway and cursed his luck. This had to be one of the worst postings in the PLA; Yemalia was, not to put too fine a point on it, a shithole and the locals were surly and uncooperative. He sighed heavily as he looked out to sea (a sea in which you couldn’t even swim because of all the sharks), maybe once he got back home they’d send him somewhere good like Hong Kong, after all he deserved it for putting up with the flies and the filth and the obnoxious people and the…

Glancing up at the road to the north Captain Zhiyuan narrowed his eyes as he tried to pick out the shapes of the vehicles coming towards the road block through the mid-morning heat haze. Pausing to yell at the local soldiers who were supposed to be manning the check point, Zhiyuan put his binoculars to his eyes. Taking a moment to adjust the focus he stared at the approaching vehicles. This, he told himself, was unusual; normally at this time of day the only things passing through the check point where a few donkey carts and camels. People who owned vehicles, particularly the Japanese made pick-ups heading towards him didn’t stir much before early evening when it was cooler.

Lowering his glasses, Captain Zhiyuan felt an itchy feeling between his shoulder blades, something was wrong here. Even without his binoculars he could see that the pick-ups were packed with men. Squinting at the fast approaching vehicles, Zhiyuan noted that each of the pick-up’s passengers seemed to be holding something in their hands. Placing his glasses to his eyes again he readjusted the focus once more as his mouth opened in surprise.

“Crap!” Zhiyuan breathed quietly as he recognised the objects in the men’s hands for what they were; assault rifles! “ALARM!” 

Dropping his binoculars so they hung by their strap around his neck, Captain Zhiyuan fumbled for the pistol in the holster on his belt. All around him the Yemali soldiers looked from the infidel foreigner to the approaching pick-ups and did little other than point and stare.

“ALARM!” Captain Zhiyuan yelled again, before adding, “MOVE YOUR USELESS BLACK-ASSES!”

Perhaps one or two of the local soldiers moved to pick up their weapons, maybe they didn’t, whatever happened Captain Zhiyuan wasn’t around long enough to find out. A burst of heavy machine gun fire from the lead vehicle cut up the ground around the captain and several of the big slugs caught him in the chest. They spun him around and knocked him off his feet. Bleeding heavily the Chinese soldier lay on the ground as the dusty Yemalian soil soaked up his blood and the pick-ups burst through the road block gunning down the Yemali soldiers as they went by. Captain Zhiyuan would never see the lights of Honk Kong, at least not in this life-time.

0=0=0=0

**The Hyperion Hotel, Mogador.**

Pausing at the entrance to the Hyperion’s saloon lounge, Faith once again thought how much the place had changed since her last visit back in 2003. Back then the hotel was used as the headquarters for one of the local warlords. In fact since her last visit to the Sultanate of Yemalia a whole lot of things had changed; she was older and wiser than she’d been back then. The city had been more or less rebuilt, the roads paved and all the wrecked vehicles and helicopters had been towed away. If it wasn’t for the heavily armed military patrols that drove through the streets in their new Chinese made APC’s you’d hardly believe that the country had suffered from over ten years of civil war, drought and famine. Looking between the potted palms and wickerwork chairs, Faith spotted the woman she was here to meet. Dodging waiters and around tables and chairs, Faith approached the American woman who was sitting under a large potted palm reading a magazine.

“Yo, Sue, how ya doin’?” Faith asked as she came into conversational range of the woman.

Looking up at the sound of a familiar voice, Sue Bromley (CIA section chief for Yemalia) smiled.

“Faith!” the CIA woman stood up and hugged Faith warmly; although the two women had only met about two weeks ago they’d taken an instant liking to each other, Sue grinned, “So, can I take it from the fact that you’ve still got the right number of arms and legs that your mission was a success?”

“Sure was,” Faith confirmed, “your guys won’t be havin’ any more problems with that Houri…like ever!”

“Good,” Sue nodded as she gestured to a chair opposite her own, “sit down, can I get you something?”

“Iced tea would be good,” Faith admitted as she sat down; Sue waved over a waiter and ordered two iced teas.

“Okay, lets hear it,” Sue sat back in her chair and watched Faith as she began to make her report, while not for the first time wishing that she worked for the ‘Agency’.

The problem with the Houri had started about six weeks ago and resulted in several local contacts being killed and at least one agent compromised. It was then that Langley had asked the Army’s anti-monster squad for help and they’d sent Chief Warrant Officer Faith Lehane to deal with the problem. Listening to Faith’s story, Sue smiled with relief, to hear Faith tell how the Houri had been well and truly ‘dealt’ with-with extreme prejudice. Once again Sue wished that Faith worked for the Agency, but it seemed the young, attractive soldier was wedded to the army.

“…look,” Faith continued after finishing her verbal report, “when I get back to the States I’ll have someone send ya some charms to keep the Houris off your people.”

“Don’t bother,” Sue shook her head, “the Agency is closing down its operation here in a couple of weeks.”

“Say what!?” Faith looked at the CIA agent in surprise, “You mean I risked my pretty white ass for nothin’?”

“No,” Sue shrugged apologetically at Faith, “and yes. We’ll still have a presence here in Yemalia but it’ll only be one agent working out of the consulate…sorry.”

“What the hell’s goin’ on, Sue?” Faith wanted to know.

0=0=0=0

**Mogador City.**

Bursting from a side street and onto the main road, the six Toyota pick-ups of the raiding force didn’t bother with the niceties of who had right of way. Forcing other vehicles off the road or into the curb the raiders bulled their way along the street towards the hotel where the foreigners stayed and the infidel spies had their headquarters. Passers-by realising that there was going to be trouble dived into the shelter of shop fronts or disappeared down side streets. A Yemali army APC drove out of another road on routine patrol, the crew didn’t know that anything was wrong until it was too late. An RPG flashed from one of the pick-ups and hit the APC reducing it to a burning ruin, infantrymen jumped from the back of the burning vehicle only to be gunned down by the passengers in the Toyotas.

0=0=0=0

**The Hyperion Hotel.**

“What the hell…?” Sue put down her iced tea and stood up to see what was going on.

“Gun fire!” Faith replied as she took hold of the agent’s arm to pull her towards the back of the hotel.

“But…” Sue was just reaching for her pistol when the world seemed to explode around herself and Faith.

Bright flashes and deafening explosions filled the room as Faith and Sue hit the floor. Trying to ignore the painful ringing in her ears, Faith looked up from under a table to see clouds of white smoke roll into the lounge and envelope the stunned hotel guests.

“Tear gas!” Faith yelled just before she started to cough and her eyes began to blur with tears, “Get out!”

Faith began to drag Sue towards the exit at the rear of the lounge.

“Hold up!” Sue coughed as she pulled her arm from Faith’s grasp.

What had made Sue stop was the sight of several men in mismatched uniforms wearing respirators and carrying assault rifles bursting into the room. Being an experienced agent, Sue knew a snatch team when she saw one. Lifting her pistol and aiming through her tears, Sue fired hitting one of the terrorists in the chest.

“What the hell…?” Faith looked over to see what Sue was firing at.

Through her tears she could see one of the terrorists had gone down while two or three others were struggling with a couple of western kids, trying to drag them towards the door and the street outside. Again Sue fired but this time she missed (it had been a miracle that she’d hit anything with the first round). One of the terrorists saw the muzzle flash of the pistol and fired back. The room was suddenly full of the sound and furry of assault rifle fire as bullets hit Sue reducing her body to a bloody, red, rag.

Screaming with incoherent rage, Faith forgot for the moment that she could hardly hear let alone see and launched herself across the room at the now retreating terrorists. Hitting the trailing man with a flying tackle that would won her a place on any national football team, Faith dragged the man to the ground. Not bothering to try and wrestle the weapon out of his hands, she hit him and felt him go limp under her. Still unable to see or hear properly, she pushed herself to her feet only to receive a rifle butt in the face.

Crying out and clutching her jaw Faith stumbled off her opponent and tried to steady herself. Before she’d fully recovered the muzzle of a rifle was jammed painfully hard into her stomach almost making her throw up from the combined effects of the tear gas and the blow from the rifle. Doubling over Faith fell to her knees as someone hit her over the back of her head with another rifle butt. Blinded, deafened and gasping for breath in the tear gas laden air Faith fell to the floor and threw-up.

“Bring the woman too…” ordered a muffled voice from out of the gas cloud.

Strong hands reached out and lifted Faith to her feet. Struggling weakly, she found herself being dragged outside and unceremoniously dumped into the back of a pick-up truck. Groaning and trying to fight off the effects of the gas and stun grenades, she was vaguely aware of men clambering into the back of the truck as it starting to move. Just as she was beginning to get her hearing back she was deafened again by a burst of heavy machine gun fire which split the air right above her head. Deafened and stunned once again, Faith decided that she needed to get her head together before she dealt with these assholes and make them regret the day they’d ever laid eyes on Faith Lehane, super-soldier.

0=0=0=0

**The Whitehouse, Washington DC.**

“Attention!” Generals and Admirals snapped to attention as President Allen strode into the Whitehouse situation room.

“At ease, gentlemen,” the President called as she reached her seat at the head of the table and slumped down wearily.

Just at the moment President Allen could well do without another world crisis; she’d only just returned that morning from a fund raising trip to the West Coast. The flight back on Air Force One had been bumpy due to atrocious weather conditions over the Midwest and she’d hardly got any sleep…in fact she’d hardly slept more than a couple of hours in the last forty-eight.

“Okay,” President Allen turned to look at General Allyson the four star general who was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, “what have you got that couldn’t wait ‘til I’d at least had my morning coffee,” she smiled as a mug of coffee magically appeared next to her right hand, “oh, and sit down, gentleman.”

As the rest of her military and civilian advisers sat down around the long table, General Allyson remained standing holding an official file in his hand.

“Madam President,” the white haired general began formally, “at about ten-forty-five local time a terrorist group attacked the Hyperion Hotel in Mogador, Yemalia and kidnapped three American citizens before making their escape to the south of the city…”

Raising her hand for the general to pause, President Allen searched her memory for information on Yemalia. Nodding her head slowly she recalled the basic facts; the US was pulling out of Yemalia after a long and difficult military deployment there. The country was more or less stable now with the Pasha, Auda Abu Tayi, taking over the reins of government from his nephew, Prince Feisal. The Pasha had also let it be known that the United States was no longer welcome in Yemalia as the Chinese would be taking over the American Military Mission. To be honest President Allen was glad to be free of the running sore that was Yemalia and the troops freed up could be more usefully deployed else where.

“Sorry, go ahead General,” President Allen sipped her coffee as she listened to the rest of the general’s report.

“Two of the hostages are Simon Neidermyer Jr aged fourteen and his sister, Polly Neidermyer, twelve…” once again General Allyson paused as the President interrupted him.

“Oh crap!” gasped the President, “Not the children of Simon Neidermyer Senior?”

“The same, Ma’am,” sighed the general.

Simon Neidermyer Senior was the CEO of Nabisco Industries an American owned company that was conducting oil and mineral exploration work in Yemalia; for a moment the President wondered why the hell this guy had his children in country, it was hardly one of Africa’s holiday spots. Neidermyer was also one of Speaker Templeton’s most outspoken, and rich, supporters. The prospect of having both Templeton and Neidermyer on her back demanding that she ‘ _do_ ’ something would not make the situation any easier.

“And the third kidnap victim?” President Allen asked.

“An American woman who we’ve not been able to identify as yet…” General Allyson paused to let the President say something.

“So we have two American children and an American woman kidnapped by who, General?”

“We believe the kidnappers owe allegiance to Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli,” General Allyson announced, “the last of the Yemali warlords, uncle to the Sultan and brother of the Pasha…there is one other thing Madam President…”

“Go on,” President Allen indicated that the general should give her all the bad news at once.

“During the kidnapping a Ms Susan Bromley was shot and killed,” General Allyson’s voice took on an even graver tone than it had previously, “Ms Bromley was the CIA’s head of station in Yemalia and it would appear she was having a meeting with the young woman who was kidnapped with the children.”

“Okay,” President Allen nodded her head, why couldn’t this be a simple kidnapping, why did the CIA have to be involved? “Contact Langley and find out if they know who Ms Bromley was meeting this morning, now tell me what assets we have in place.”

“Well, Madam President,” General Allyson moved slowly over to the map of Yemalia on the flat screen TV behind the President. “Apart from a few Marines guarding the consulate we don’t have anything on shore at the moment. But, out here, in the Indian Ocean,” the general pointed to a map of the area, “about eight hours steaming away we have Task Force Seventy-Five under Admiral Finch Chadwick.”

“The Task force is built around the assault carrier USS Vera Cruz and includes the usual support ships,” the General paused and smiled, “the Vera Cruz is carrying the 1st Battalion of the Twelfth Marine Regiment.”

“Good,” President Allen nodded her head, “have Admiral Chadwick turn his ships around and head for the Yemali coast then get me the Pasha on the phone.” The President gave Allyson a rueful smile, “Lets see if we can settle this without sending the Marines in…but I think you better get me a plan to rescue the hostages just in case.”

“Yes Ma’am,” General Allyson replied grimly.

0=0=0=0


	3. Chapter 3

3.

**The Yemali Desert, South of Mogador.**

Walking over to where the two teenagers sat in the shade of one of the Toyotas, Faith sat down as she eyed the rebels warily. After being snatched from the hotel, she’d been bundled into the back of one of the pick-ups. They’d driven through the streets of Mogador at breakneck speed exchanging fire with army and police patrols. Eventually they’d broken contact with their pursuers and headed south down the coastal highway until they drove off the main road as it turned inland; they, however, had continued along a rough track next to the coast.

Of any pursuit, Faith had seen none; the Yemali army had either lost them or decided against following them into the desert. Neither did her abductors have to worry about being spotted from the air; the Royal Yemali Air Force consisted of half a dozen rotary and fixed wing aircraft none of which could actually fly. While all this was going on, Faith considered what she should do next. After quickly recovering from the effects of the CS gas and stun grenades she'd sat up in the back of the pick-up and studied her captors.

They were an unusual mix of African and Arab tribesmen all dressed in odd pieces of military uniform that gave them a sort of semi-official look. They were well armed with the typical collection of weapons bought from the Soviets way back in the Cold War and since. The weapons looked well cared for and by the way the rebel soldiers held them, Faith felt sure they knew how to use them. These weren’t the usual run of the mill militias. These were veteran fighters; of course if they came up against Western troops they’d be so much dog-meat but against any of the local forces employed by the Pasha they’d be formidable foes.

They’d also be difficult to escape from; although they hadn’t tied her hands or appeared to be paying very much attention to her, Faith had the feeling that could all change if she made any move to escape and there was one other thing to consider; if she escaped, where would she escape to? With no idea of where she was or how far it was from civilisation escaping now would be tantamount to committing suicide. Okay, she was a super-soldier capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound…well, maybe not a _single_ bound, but she was quite capable of killing everyone in the back of the pick-up in about five seconds flat, but, then what? Five seconds of freedom before their friends gunned her down? Plus there were the kids to consider.

0=0=0=0

“Hi, kids,” Faith got herself comfortable on the sand, “I’m Faith who are you?”

“Simon Neidermyer,” the boy said in one of those educated East coast accents that for some reason made Faith feel slightly inadequate, he gestured towards the girl, “this is my sister Polly.”

“Hi,” Polly said in a small frighten voice, “like, what are they totally going to do with us?”

The children’s names meant nothing to Faith, but there had to be a reason why these kids had been snatched when there’d been other juicy targets just lying around for the taking. The other thing which was bugging Faith was, why had they snatched her? As far as anyone in Yemalia was concerned she was a rather lowly photographer working for the New York Times. ‘Lowly’ because no one of any importance was willing to go to Yemalia.

“Are your folks rich?” Faith asked hopefully.

“Like, mega,” Polly replied, she’d moved so she was sitting closer to Faith and further away from her brother, Faith wondered if there was any significance in that.

“Don’t you know who our father is?” Simon sneered at Faith as if she was some sort of low-life street punk.

“No,” Faith gave the brat a hard look which apparently failed to penetrate his armour of self-importance, “should I?”

“Our father is Simon Neidermyer Senior,” Junior announced as if this should mean something to Faith; when Faith showed no signs of recognising the name he added, “he’s CEO of Nabisco Industries. He could pay our ransoms out of his loose change…”

“Yeah, well I hope he can,” Faith wasn’t a hundred percent sure that this was just a kidnapping for ransom; the kidnappers had seemed to go out of their way to snatch the kids and only the kids.

When Faith thought about it, the more she realised that she’d just been picked up by accident. Perhaps the kidnappers had wanted a Western adult to act as go between. Whatever, Faith stifled the sigh that almost escaped her lips, until she had more information she’d go with her cover identity and hope no one found out the truth. Looking up she saw one of their guards approaching them with a bundle of clothes held in his hot, sweaty hands.

“Looks like its time for me to be the ‘go between’,” Faith muttered to herself, and then in a louder voice she addressed the rebel fighter. “Okay, what’ya want, bozo?”

“You, woman,” the fighter threw the clothes at Faith’s feet, “cover yourself, put these clothes on.”

“No way, Jose!” Faith smiled insolently as she picked up a black tent-like garment and held it at arms length, “I wanna see your boss…NOW! I wanna ask him what he thinks he’s doin’ kidnapping American citizens, I ain’t goin’ nowhere, no how until I see…”

”WHORE!” the rebel yelled in Faith’s face, “Cover yourself like a decent woman or…”

On more sober reflection Faith realised that maybe she shouldn’t have hit the guy or the half dozen of his friends who came to help out. But, well, he’d called her a ‘whore’ and she didn’t like being called a whore so, she couldn’t really help herself. When she’d stopped moving and hitting people, Faith found herself at the centre of a circle of seven groaning and semi-conscious rebels and a wider circle of about a dozen armed men all of whom were pointing their rifles at her.

“Crap,” Faith sighed quietly as she relaxed and tried to look less threatening, it was then that she noticed the man with the grey beard for the first time.

Standing in front of Faith stood a well built man in his late middle age, he sported a full grey beard and he wore more traditional clothes than the men with guns. He wore an old American equipment harness and apart from a silver handled dagger thrust into his belt he didn’t seem to be armed. He also appeared to be studying Faith as closely as she was studying her.

“I am el Raisuli, Lord of the Riff, and these,” he gestured to the men standing about pointing guns and the men who where still groaning on the ground, “are my followers…”

Suddenly Faith remembered where she’d seen this guy before. It was way back in '03, the last she’d seen of this guy he was being thrown into the back of an American truck after being captured by some Delta Force guys.

“…and you are?” El Raisuli looked at Faith expectantly an amused glint in his eye.

“Lehane,” Faith relaxed, people who were about to stake you out over an ant hill didn’t normally want to know your name, “Faith Lehane.”

“‘Faith’,” El Raisuli gave the impression of tasting Faith’s name, “Faith is a good name and ‘Lehane’ is Irish, is it not?”

“Yeah,” Faith was now fairly certain that she wasn’t going to die in the next five minutes, “long time ago.”

“That explains…” El Raisuli looked down to where his men were slowly getting to their feet, “…the, shall we say, misunderstanding?”

“Misunderstanding?” Faith’s voice hinted at the anger she still felt, “He called me a ‘whore’!”

“Yes indeed,” El Raisuli looked at his feet and stroked his beard for a moment before looking up at Faith again, “Do you play checkers?”

“What?” Faith was completely thrown by the new question.

“Checkers?” repeated the Raisuli.

“Yeah,” Faith admitted, “but I prefer to play chess.”

“Chess!” El Raisuli smiled showing strong white teeth, “This is better, we have a long journey to my home where you and the children shall be my guests. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive my ignorant men and join me in a game or two?”

“Yeah, okay,” Faith shrugged, why not, this ‘el Raisuli’ guy could have had her shot, playing him at chess was a small price to pay for good treatment.

“Good, good,” El Raisuli nodded his head in thought, “in the mean time, if I found you head scarves would you and the girl wear them,” he gave Faith a hopeful look, “to save any more misunderstandings with my men?”

“Yeah, okay,” Faith agreed, the guy was being reasonable and she couldn’t fight all the rebels all the time; also the scarves would help keep the sun off.

“Good!” El Raisuli smiled broadly before issuing orders in rapid fire Arabic; he walked over to Faith so he could speak privately to her, “Miss Lehane,” he sounded puzzled, “how did you defeat my followers, they are some of my best men?”

“I work out,” Faith replied simply.

“I see,” El Raisuli nodded his head slowly before adding, “we will camp here tonight before going on to my home, do you ride Miss Lehane?”

“Sure,” Faith grinned, she’d learned how to ride as part of her Special Ops training, “all Americans know how to ride,” she informed a surprised El Raisuli, “ya know…the Wild West an’all?”

“Of course!” El Raisuli smiled as he realised Faith was joking with him; his face lost all amusement for a moment however, before he added quietly “You are a great deal of trouble Miss Lehane.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, “I am and you will live to regret the day you kidnapped me.”

“A threat Miss Lehane?” The smile was back on El Raisuli’s face.

“A promise, Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli,” Faith replied.

Just for a moment, Faith regretted what she’d have to do and what would happen to Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli, but he’d kidnapped her and two American children. Things like that just couldn’t be left unpunished.

0=0=0=0

Late the previous night a few men had turned up with a lot of horses. The following morning Faith found herself and the two teenagers being told to mount up as about half the Raisuli’s men drove off into the desert in the pick-ups. With the enemy force now halved, Faith considered making a break for freedom. Although the odds were now firmly in her favour there was still the problem of where to go once she’d broken free. There was also the problem of the two children.

While the girl, Polly seemed quite willing to follow Faith’s instructions the boy, Simon, had proved to be more of a problem. Somehow he’s got it into his head that he should be in charge because his father was so damn rich. When he wasn’t arguing with Faith he was staring at her boobs or her ass. Unsure whether the boy would do as he was told during an escape attempt, Faith decided to shelve any ideas about taking on the Raisuli and his men for the time being; she’d go along playing the part of a reporter until…well, until she was sure she could get everyone out safely without getting them killed in the process.

They’d ridden for about half an hour before the Raisuli led them inland. They trotted through an area of soft sand until they came to firmer going where they started to walk, trot and canter. Every so often the Raisuli would order everyone to dismount and lead their horses in order to rest them. They kept up this pace until they came to a well in the otherwise barren desert. The Raisuli’s followers surrounded the well capturing several tribesmen in the process.

Getting some water from the well for herself and the children, Faith stopped for a moment to watch what was going on. It would appear that the men at the well had done something to displease the Raisuli and he was holding court or something. Shrugging to herself, Faith carried the bucket of water over to where the teenagers sat in the shade of a small lean-to their captors had put up to shelter them from the sun.

“Here,” Faith put the bucket down as she turned to watch what was going on at the ‘court’, “don’t drink too much too quickly.”

“I’ll drink as much as I want!” announced Simon petulantly as he started to scoop handfuls of water from the bucket.

“Yeah, whatever,” to be honest Faith was more interested in what the Raisuli was doing than the kid making himself sick, “make y’self throw up and dehydrate, see if I care…”

Even Faith jumped a little as the two shots rang out. Polly screamed and Simon stared at the scene over by the well. The Raisuli had shot two of the men in the back of the head and was now coming over to where Faith sat with the kids. Standing up Faith got ready to fight, but Mulai Ahmed El Raisuli handed his pistol to one of his followers before coming to stand in front of Faith.

“I want you to realise, Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli began in a reasonable tone, “that I am not a barbarous man…”

“Ya not?” Faith would beg to differ on this point.

“Those men,” El Raisuli pointed back to the two bodies and the two survivors, “had drunk from my well and not even praised my name to Allah. I had to shoot the two so I could trust the others, you understand?”

Faith understood all too well, underneath his kind words and pleasant demeanour, Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli was nothing but a murdering savage, of course Faith didn’t say this but she felt she had to say something.

“Do ya pray a lot?” she asked after a moments thought.

“I pray to Allah five times a day,” El Raisuli replied slightly puzzled by Faith’s question.

“Yeah, like I’m surprised you have the time!” Faith took a step towards the Raisuli forcing him back a little. “You’re so busy kidnapping women and children and blowing men’s brains out all over the desert!”

“If I miss the prayers in the morning,” El Raisuli replied feeling uncomfortable under Faith’s angry gaze, “I pray twice in the afternoon…Allah is very understanding that way!”

“I’m sure he is,” Faith turned and strode back to the teenagers. “Come on guys,” Faith pointed to the horses, “mount up before his Raisuli-ness decides to shoot us too.”

Simon opened his mouth to object but suddenly found himself staring into Faith eyes, all of a sudden he felt more scared of her than he did of the Raisuli.

“Move-it, dickwad,” Faith didn’t shout she just used the same tone of voice she’d used on drunken PFC’s when she’d been an MP, it had worked then and it worked now. 

Scrambling to his feet, Simon joined his sister in climbing aboard their horses.

“You are a great deal of trouble, Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli called after her before going to find his own horse.

“That’s what they trained me to be,” Faith agreed quietly.

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

**The Oval Office.**

Sticking his head around the door to the Oval Office, Vince Taylor, Special Aide to the President, coughed quietly to attract the President’s attention, sure enough Potus looked up and nodded to him.

“You really should do something about that cough, Vince,” President Allen smiled at her aide over the top of her glasses; she’d managed to have a good four or five hours sleep the previous night and she was feeling refreshed if not well rested. “Perhaps you should see my mother for some of her chicken soup.”

“Yes, Madam President,” Vince agreed, “but before I do I have General Allyson who’d like to speak to you.”

“Of course,” President Allen pushed the folder she’d been studying to one side and stood to greet the General, “Good morning General, anything new about the situation in Yemalia?”

“Not as such,” General Allyson admitted, “but we have found out who the third kidnap victim is.”

Gesturing to the couches in front her desk President Allen sat down and waited for the General to sit on the couch opposite.

“So, General,” President Allen asked slowly as she imagined having to make a phone call to a grieving family, that part of her job never got any easier, “who did they snatch?”

“Madam President,” the old General smiled and shook his head slowly, “if we’d planned this kidnapping ourselves the rebels couldn’t have chosen a better victim…from our point of view.”

“Explain,” President Allen was more than a little surprised at General Allyson’s reaction; she watched closely as the General took a photograph of a woman in army uniform and handed it to her.

“That,” General Allyson watched as the President studied the photograph of the attractive dark haired young woman, “is Chief Warrant Officer Faith Tasker-Lehane, US Army Rangers…the rebels couldn’t have made a bigger mistake when they snatched her.”

Frowning for a moment, President Allen tried to remember where she’d heard the name before. The answer came to her in a flash. Some time before she’d become Vice President there’d been some trouble at a SAC base in the Midwest. A General Ripper had launched his bomber wing at targets in Russia, China and the Middle East there’d almost been a nuclear war. It had only been averted when…

“Isn’t this the woman who was mixed up in that Burpleson business?” President Allen studied the rows of medal ribbons on the woman’s uniform; she wasn’t an expert but she couldn’t help thinking how impressive they all looked. “Hold on a moment, General, Tasker-Lehane?”

“Yes Madam President,” Allyson nodded, “Chief Lehane was instrumental in bringing that situation to a successful conclusion, and you remember that business in Jacksonville a couple of years back, that was her too? She’s also the daughter of Director Harry Tasker of Omega Section”

“Harry Tasker?” President Allen raised an eyebrow; things were likely to get interesting if Omega Section got involved; the president made a mental note to speak to Director Tasker.

The truth about the Jacksonville affair had come as something of a shock once she’d become President and been briefed on the activities of the USAF’s Stargate Command. Aliens really existed, the conspiracy nuts had been right all along. There was also something about an attempted terrorist attack on Miami years ago.

“Wasn’t it Harry Tasker who prevented the terrorist attack on Miami ten or fifteen years ago?” President Allen asked.

“Yes Ma’am,” General Allyson nodded his head, “he and his daughter Dana where both involved.

“Dana?” President Allen frowned.

“It’s a long story Ma’am,” the General explained, “I’ll have the files sent to you, but to cut a long story short, Ma’am, Dana Tasker and Faith Tasker-Lehane are one and the same person.”

“I’ll be interested to read this file General,” President Allen replied.

Once again the President gazed at the photograph, this time wondering why a pretty young woman like Chief Lehane would join the army when she could have a much easier life working as a model or actress, she certainly had the looks for that kind of work. Something else jogged the President’s memory, something the General had said with just a little more pride than she usually heard from him when he spoke about his Service.

“Rangers?” President looked up at the grinning general, “But the US Army doesn’t have women in the Rangers.”

“They made an exception for Ms Lehane,” General Allyson, a long time supporter of women in the US military explained, “she is quite an exceptional young woman…”

“So it seems, General,” The President leaned back on her couch and studied Allyson carefully.

“Remember when you were briefed on the Stargate project, Madam President?” Allyson continued as the President nodded her head giving nothing away, “Remember how you felt after hearing about that?” the General waited for the President to nod her head again. “Well, Madam President I think its time you heard the truth about Chief Lehane and one or two other things.”

“The truth?” President Allen felt unaccountably nervous as she waited for her General to explain himself, “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like what I hear?”

General Allyson nodded his head gravely and started to tell the story of how a young girl called Dana Tasker had been snatched off the street by agents of an organisation called the Human Resources Initiative. He told the President, as she listened to him with mounting horror at the account of what Professor Walsh had done to the girl; how Dana Tasker had been turned into Faith Lehane, super-soldier.

“Chief Lehane knows about all this?” the President asked as she turned her head so the old general wouldn’t see her tears, “and her parents?”

“They and she do now,” General Allyson confirmed.

“And she’s still in the army,” President Allen hesitated before asking, “she still loves her country after all this was done to her?”

“More than ever, Madam President,” General Allyson said proudly.

“I want to meet this young woman,” President Allen told her General, “as soon as we get her home again.”

0=0=0=0

**Yemalia.**

They’d ridden hard all day after the shooting at the well and even Faith was feeling fatigued; her two charges were almost falling from their saddles when they finally reached their destination. Around last light they’d ridden through the gates of what the Raisuli modestly referred to as his ‘humble home’, it looked more like a big castle perched on a high mountain top to Faith. They’d dismounted in a courtyard and the exhausted horses were led away for a good rub down and a feed. Faith stared wistfully after the animals wishing someone would give her a ‘good rub down’, unfortunately she was to be disappointed. Instead she and the sleepy youngsters were led through the castle and let into a small apartment. After being hustled through the door Faith and the kids just stood there while the door was closed and locked behind them.

By the light of several electric light bulbs Faith saw a large room furnished in a mixture of western and eastern styles with several doors probably leading to other rooms. She also noticed the young western woman who hobbled towards them out of what looked like a kitchen, she leaned heavily on a walking stick as she stood before the newcomers in the middle of the room.

“Hi,” she called, Faith noticed a slight Californian accent, “and welcome to my prison, I’m Lieutenant Cordelia Chase, USMC and you are?”

“Faith Lehane,” Faith smiled, things were starting to look better by the minute, “nice to meet ya L-t.”

Faith Lehane, Cordelia frowned as she tried to remember where she’d heard that name before. However, this thought was thrust aside as something else registered, something the other woman had said…civilians didn’t say things like ‘L-t’ that was a military slang.

“Okay, Faith Lehane,” Cordy’s eyes narrowed as she studied the woman in front of her, “who the hell are you…really?”

0=0=0=0

**El Raisuli’s Fortress, the following morning.**

“I’m sure I’ve met you somewhere before,” Cordelia hobbled around the little kitchen area as she made coffee and found something for her ‘guests’ to eat for breakfast.

“I was at Camp Lejeune for a while,” Faith admitted, “helped train the Recon Platoon for the 1st of the 12th then I went ashore with them on Nunca-Aterriza; this was way back in ‘06…maybe you saw me there?”

“You were on Nunca-Aterriza!” Cordy stopped what she was doing and grinned at Faith, “That was my first combat mission, I flew UH1’s off the Vera Cruz…”

“There you go,” Faith shrugged, “that’s when ya probably saw me.”

“Must be,” Cordy agree before frowning and looking at Faith anew, “Hold on if you’re army…”

“Yeah I know,” Faith laughed as she accepted a cup of coffee off Cordy, “major screw up; me an’ my buddy shouldn’t have been anywhere near.”

“Screw-up?” Cordy eased herself up onto a stool, “Tell be about it…no I don’t mean ‘tell me about it’ I just mean I know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure,” Faith eyed the Marine officer for a moment before asking, “so, how did ya end up here, L-t?”

“Shot down,” Cordy replied sadly, “both my co-pilot and door gunner w-where killed…” tears started to appear in the corners of Cordelia’s eyes as she thought back to that day; she wiped her eyes and forced a smile, “…crap I thought I’d got over that…”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith said softly as she reached out to squeeze Cordy’s hand comfortingly, “ya never get over it not if you’re in any way human.”

“Yeah sure,” Cordy sniffed as she regained control of herself, “anyway, I got my legs broken and I was captured by the Raisuli’s men…”

“How’ve they treated you?” Faith asked a dark look on her face.

“Not so bad,” Cordy admitted and then added, “pretty good really,” she shrugged. “Can’t go anywhere coz of the leg but…” again Cordy shrugged resignedly, “He got me a doctor and drugs, my left leg healed pretty quickly…I think it was just a fracture, but my right leg is screwed, the doc musta set it wrong…” Cordelia looked deeply into Faith’s eyes, “I know you’re already planning an escape,” she said in a low voice, “but I won’t be able to go with you. I won’t be going anywhere with this leg, but don’t let me cramp your style.”

“A Marine cramp my style?” Faith almost laughed, “Never gonna happen…like leaving you behind's, never gonna happen…”

“I can make that an order Chief,” Cordelia scowled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’d disobeyed one either,” Faith informed her, “if I go we both go even if I have to carry ya!”

“What about the kids?” Cordy asked semi-seriously.

“Oh, the girl can come,” Faith smiled, “but I’m seriously thinking of leaving the brat behind.”

“He’s that bad?” Cordy asked, “He seemed nice enough to me…”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith snapped back, “ya haven’t had him staring at ya boobs an’ ass for the last coupla days!”

“Hey look, Chief,” Cordelia gave Faith an apprising look, “I’m not into girls myself but I can see where he’s coming from…”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith looked Cordy in the eye, “ya hitting on me?”

“Like I say, Chief,” Cordy reconfirmed, “sooo not into girls…and anyway you’re army.”

“Ya sayin’ I smell or something?” Faith asked in mock horror.

“Hey, what can I say,” Cordy shrugged helplessly, “and then there’s the whole officer thing…”

“Oh, I get it,” Faith replied nodding her head, “not only do I smell but I’m not good enough coz I’m not an officer!”

“Yeah, right,” Cordy laughed before becoming serious again, “now we’ve done the bonding thing, what’s your plan, Chief?”

“We’re gonna need transport,” Faith replied quietly.

“Only thing I’ve seen up here are horses and they’re all kept in the stables in the yard,” Cordy explained.

“No trucks?” Faith asked slightly disappointed, vehicles would have made her planned escape a lot easier. “I was hopin’ that we could steal a truck and sabotage the others to slow down any pursuit…”

“You’re not killing the other horses,” Cordy told Faith forcefully.

“Wasn’t intendin’ to L-t,” Faith shook her head, “take too long for one an’ too noisy for another…can you ride?”

“Yeah,” Cordy admitted, “but not so good with a screwed up leg…”

“Cross that bridge when we get to it,” Faith explained, “so, we’re gonna need four horses…”

“So, you’ve decided to take the ‘brat’ after all?” Cordy grinned.

“Looks like,” Faith shrugged, “horses, food, water, weapons,” Faith looked at Cordy hopefully, “map?”

“I’ve got one in here,” Cordy taped the side of her head, “I’m good at remembering stuff.”

“Good enough to navigate our way outta here?” Faith asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Cordy hesitated for a moment, “look, if I can find the crash site for my helo I can navigate to the coast, but…”

“But?” Faith sighed; there was always a ‘but’.

“Look,” Cordy explained apologetically, “I was pretty out of it when they brought me here…you know…broken legs, pain, morphine…”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith nodded sympathetically, “I know, I’ve been there, ya just do what ya can…”

“Wounded?” Cordy asked.

“More times than I…” Faith shrugged, “…ya know?”

The two women sat in silence for a moment just looking at the floor.

“Are we going to make it Chief?” Cordy asked quietly; she’d been lost out here by herself and had sort of resigned herself to never going home; now this army Warrant Officer had given her some hope again.

“Hell, L-t,” Faith reached out and squeezed Cordy’s hand again, “coz we will, Army’s here to save your poor, sorry Marine ass!”

“Yeah, right,” Cordy laughed, “as if!”

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**US Consulate, Mogador.**

The helicopter had taken Admiral Chadwick and Colonel Jerome from the deck of the USS Vera Cruz to the roof of the US Consulate in Mogador in less than half an hour. Task Force 75 steamed just over the horizon waiting for the order to unleash hell on Yemalia if that was what was decided, otherwise they would stay there unseen until they were ordered to do something else.

Crouching in the down wash of the helicopter’s rotors the two officers watched as the chopper took off again and headed out to sea, before standing up and straightening their unfamiliar civilian clothes. As soon as the helicopter had flown off and the two men could hear themselves think again they were confronted by a young man in a smart light weight tropical suit.

“Good day gentleman, I’m Richard Dreighton the Vice Consul,” he shook hands with both the Admiral and the Colonel, “if you’d like to follow me I’ll take you to Consul Gummere.”

Following Dreighton down into the consulate building, Chadwick and Jerome exchanged looks. The consulate appeared almost deserted with only a few consulate staff and Marine guards in evidence. They were shown into a large cool room on the third floor of the building, the windows looked out over a large palm shaded square; when Jerome glanced out the window he noticed the two Chinese made APC’s parked in the square surrounded by a dozen or so bored looking Yemali soldiers.

“I see you’ve noticed our ‘keepers’,” Samual Gummere, US Consul to Yemalia said tiredly; he was a short nervous looking man with a big moustache; he sweated even in the cool of the room. “They’ve been there since the start of this entire sorry business…for our own ‘protection’ says the Pasha,” the consul made a disbelieving noise, “I know exactly why they’re there…”

“Indeed,” Admiral Chadwick exchanged a significant look with Jerome; what the consul told them next would shape their plans. “Has there been any progress with the negotiations with the Pasha?”

“Negotiations? HA!” The Consul laughed bitterly, “Negotiations indeed…” Gummere shook his head sadly, “…that man could no more negotiating in good faith than I could fly to the moon and back…”

“If I may, Sir?” Dreighton spoke up, the consul nodded to the young man before turning to glare out the window at the Yemali troops again. “Admiral, the situation is very confused…”

“How so?” Jerome asked, “Why won’t this Pasha guy send his troops up into the mountains with their new Chinese equipment and ‘advisors’ and root this El Raisuli bandit out and get our people back?”

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” Dreighton tried to explain.

“Why not?” Admiral Chadwick demanded.

“Well, for a start,” Dreighton explained, “El Raisuli is the Pasha’s brother and Uncle to the Sultan…there’s a lot of locals who think that the Raisuli should be Pasha, if not Sultan.” Dreighton paused for a moment, “There’s also a lot of people who’d support the Raisuli against the Pasha; while the Pasha would probably love to see the Raisuli dead it might prove to be more trouble than its worth, another civil war you know?”

Both Chadwick and Jerome nodded their understanding.

“So,” Dreighton continued, “while the Raisuli’s up in his fort in the mountains and the Pasha has the Chinese on his side, he doesn’t care how many Americans the Raisuli takes hostage.”

“What’s this El Raisuli like?” Chadwick wanted to know, “Didn’t we hold him for some time a ways back?”

“Yes,” Consul Gummere turned away from the window to face the room, “Delta Force and the Rangers snatched him back in ‘03, but he escaped from prison just over a year ago.”

“Yes,” Dreighton glanced at the Consul before continuing, “El Raisuli is a traditionalist in some ways and extremely modern in his outlook in others…” Dreighton paused to order his thoughts, “He knows he can’t fight the US so he confines himself to embarrassing us. In the present situation he’s embarrassing both the Pasha and his Chinese supporters as well as us.”

“What’s he likely to do, with the prisoners?” Colonel Jerome wanted to know.

“Oh nothing,” Dreighton replied quickly, “they’re women and children, he’ll not harm them and once they’ve served their purpose he’ll ransom them and let them go.”

“Hold on, Mr Dreighton,” Admiral Chadwick looked from the Vice Consul to the Consul, “You said ‘women’?”

“Oh yes,” Dreighton nodded, “we’re not one-hundred percent sure but we think the Raisuli is holding a Lieutenant Chase, one of your Marines, Colonel.”

“My god!” Jerome gasped the Corps had been searching for Lt Cordelia Chase for nearly six months now, they’d almost given up on finding her alive.

The Marine Colonel and Navy Admiral exchanged looks it seemed clear to them what needed to be done.

“You’re sure we’ll get nowhere negotiating through the Pasha,” Admiral Chadwick asked.

“Not until the Raisuli thinks its time to let our people go,” Consul Gummere confirmed.

“And there’s no way the Pasha will send his troops up into the hills to get our people back?” Chadwick asked.

“No Admiral,” Gummere shook his head sadly, “unless something changes very soon we won’t see our people until the Raisuli is bored with their company.”

“Hmm,” Chadwick paused for a moment before turning to nod to Colonel Jerome; they’d discussed this in depth before coming to the consulate, “Colonel?”

“It seems quite obvious, I would think, sir,” Colonel Jerome announced, “we must seize the government and make our own negotiations!” 

“Seize the government?” Gasped Consul Gummere in shook.

“At bayonet point!” Colonel Jerome added with a big grin on his face. 

“Well,,” Gummere tried to hide his amusement at the idea as he glanced at Dreighton, “I certainly would like to see that old son-of-a-bitch at bayonet point, huh?” Suddenly Gummere appeared to sober and swept all thought of the Pasha on the end of a US Marine’s bayonet from his mind, “But it's ridiculous; it's outrageous, it's lunatic!”

“Yes, isn't it though?” Chadwick smiled, “I think President Allen would love it!”

America’s first female President had never baulked at using America’s military power to protect US citizens before, he felt sure he could get Presidential approval for what he had planned. 

“But, what about the UN,” Gummere complained, “the Chinese?”

“DAMN THEM ALL!” Chadwick cried, “I don’t see any Chinese Naval Task Force on the horizon and as for the UN?” Chadwick sneered, “Bunch of old women!”

“You realize, of course,” Gummere replied nervously, “that if we fail in even the slightest way, we'll all be killed?”

“Yes, and the whole world might go to war over it,” Admiral Chadwick pointed out. 

“Gentlemen, if we fail and get killed,” Colonel Jerome smiled, “I certainly hope the world _does_ go to war!”

“A world war?” Gummere said quietly, “Now that would be something to go out on...”

0=0=0=0

**The Oval Office.**

White House Chief of Staff, Jim Gardner walked into the Oval Office clutching a file nervously in his hand.

“What have you got there, Jim?” President Allen asked as she turned away from the window; she’d been staring out over the Whitehouse gardens trying to decide what to do about the Yemalia situation.

Negotiations had hit a dead end with the Pasha who seemed to be reluctant to do anything other than issue statements that seemed to imply this was somehow all America’s fault. With political solutions blocked by the Pasha in Yemalia and the Chinese stirring up trouble in the UN, using its African ‘friends’ as proxies. It looked like she’d have to turn to the military to get their people back. It wasn’t a decision that came easily to her, another deployment to Yemalia was exactly what she didn’t want. Plus, although she had every confidence in her armed forces, any rescue would be a dangerous and difficult mission, not one to be taken lightly.

How many casualties was she willing for the Marines and Navy to take to rescue the hostages. At what point did the number of hostages make military intervention counter productive, non-cost effective? She knew what General Allyson would say, even one American hostage was reason enough and she agreed with him. Let this sort of thing happen and no American would be safe anywhere in the world. El Raisuli had to be taught that he couldn’t push America around or kidnap her citizens. Plus there was the press demanding action; ‘America wants Lehane alive or the Raisuli dead!’ as one headline put it.

“It’s a message from Admiral Chadwick, Madam President,” Gardener said slowly, “he wants permission to seize the Yemali Government and force them to negotiate with El Raisuli in good faith or failing that have them send their troops into the mountains and get our people back for us!”

“He does?” President Allen almost vetoed the idea on the spot.

But, what if this could be spun as the US helping the Yemali government to solve their own problems, she’d need to discuss this with General Allyson, but… But this was so crazy it just might work!

“What do you think I should do, Jim?” President Allen took the folder from Gardener’s hand and flipped through its pages.

“It depends what you want to achieve, Madam President,” Garden replied.

“What do I want to achieve?” President Allen looked up from the file and at her Chief of Staff, “What I want, Jim, is respect! Respect for human life and the safe return of our people.” President Allen paused, “I’m thinking of giving Admiral Chadwick the go ahead…” 

“Of course the decision is up to you Madam President,” Jim Gardener replied levelly, “but I think I should point out that it would be illegal under international law.”

“Why spoil the beauty of the thing with legality, Jim?” President Allen sighed, “And could you call a meeting of the Joint Chiefs for,” the President checked her watch, “Eleven-thirty?”

“Of course, Madam President,” Gardener nodded and left the room.

Alone once more, President Allen turned and looked out of the window again, the next forty-eight hours or so should prove very interesting.

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

**El Raisuli’s Fortress.**

“You’re in a load of trouble!” Faith told the Raisuli as she studied the chess board, “You should never have moved that knight or kidnapped me…” Faith moved her bishop and smiled as she saw the look of alarm on El Raisuli’s face. “…both’ll see ya in deep crap.” 

“It is not I who determine the outcome of these events,” El Raisuli studied the board intently and moved a rook, “it is the will of Allah.”

“And this is the will of Allah?” Faith moved her queen and put El Raisuli into check, “Abducting women and children?” 

”I would prefer to fight the Western armies, but they do not fight as men,” El Raisuli stared at the board trying to see a way out of his present predicament, “they fight as dogs!” he snapped as he realised the American woman had trapped him…in more ways than on the chess board. “Men prefer to fight with swords, so they can see each other's eyes!” El Raisuli sat back he seemed to be coming to the realisation he’d lost the game. “Sometimes, this is not possible and then, they fight with rifles. The Westerners have weapons that fire many times promiscuously and rend the Earth. There is no honour in this, nothing is decided from this. Therefore, I take women and children when it pleases me…”

El Raisuli knocked over his king and conceded the game, looking up he noticed the look of disbelief in Faith’s eyes.

“Perhaps I don’t believe that either,” he said quietly before adding, “I am the true defender of the faithful and the blood of the prophet runs in my veins and I am the servant of his will…you have nothing to say?”

“I try not to encourage assholes,” Faith replied as she helped El Raisuli put away the playing pieces.

“Your shell is strong like a turtle’s, but brittle,” El Raisuli replied with a smile.

“Yeah an’ you’re one slick talking bastard,” Faith observed.

“You are a great deal of trouble, Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli laughed gently as he watched Faith’s every movement.

“Hey look,” Faith sighed after putting the chess pieces away, “I can see where ya coming from,” she shrugged, “I can even sympathise, but as a woman I’m never gonna agree with you…”

“You of course refer to a woman’s proper place in the world?” El Raisuli nodded his head slowly.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded in reply, “something like that.”

“Hmmm,” El Raisuli stroked his beard for a moment or two, “as I say, perhaps I don’t believe that either…”

With a nod, El Raisuli got up from the table they’d been playing at and walked away leaving Faith to her own thoughts. She’d been held prisoner at the Raisuli’s fortress for three full days now and every afternoon she’d been called to this balcony overlooking the fort where she and El Raisuli would play chess. El Raisuli wasn’t the best of players and Faith suspected she was one of the few people who’d dared to try and beat him. Having learnt to play chess during her tour of duty in Iraq, Faith wasn’t a particularly experienced player either. However, like everything else she did that had a vague connection to combat she played instinctively…and won more times than she lost.

0=0=0=0

Security at the fort was laughable, but then it didn’t need to be that good as they were miles from anywhere. Any escape attempt would require transport to cross the miles of waterless semi desert that separated the fort from what passed for civilisation in these parts. On the plus side as no one thought escape was possible, Faith found that no one bothered to guard the hostages particularly closely. During the day they had the run of the fort, they could even go outside the walls with an escort; Faith thought that this was more for their own protection than from any fear that they’d try to escape.

From dusk to dawn they were locked in their apartment, which had once been part of the old harem. However, it’d not been exactly designed as a jail. For a start the doors had their locks on the _inside_ and Faith had already checked that it would be the work of precisely two seconds for her to bust them out. The windows, while being narrow and set high in the wall wouldn’t stop her either. The kids and herself would fit through easy, the problem would be the L-t.

Thinking hard about the injured Marine, Faith rejected any thought that she should leave the woman behind. Okay, _yes_ she’d slow them down and _yes_ she’d only be of minimal help if it came to a fight. But if she left her behind Faith’d never be able to look her old friend, Gunny Highway, or any Marine in the eye again, also it just wasn’t her way. No, if she escaped with the kids then the L-t would escape with her whatever the problems that caused.

Walking back to the garden where the kids spent their afternoons under the watchful eye or Lt Chase, Faith took the opportunity to walk through the stables. Apart from a couple of guys looking after the horses there was no one else around. The two men didn’t seem to object when she came in and made a fuss of a couple of the horses, she was actually trying to get the horses used to her so they wouldn’t make a noise when she came in the night to steal a few of them.

There were twenty horses, give or take, housed in the stable, they’d need four that left sixteen for any pursuing force. Faith looked at the animals, what if there were more horses stashed elsewhere? What if the Raisuli had trucks hidden close by? Well, Faith shrugged as she moved away from the horses, if there were more horses she’d have to make sure that the escape didn’t come to a fight. If there were trucks near by, again she shrugged, then it’d be one of the shortest escape attempts ever!

As she left the stables Faith checked on the location of the saddles and water-skins that were kept with the horses. They’d been there for the last two days and Faith was sort of assuming that that was where they were kept all the time. The next thing on her shopping list was weapons. There was a guard stationed outside the door to the apartment all night, again Faith thought it was more for their protection than any real fear that she and the others would try to escape. The guard could be taken out after she broke through the door, all the guards carried the ubiquitous AK47, so that would supply her with at least one rifle and some ammunition.

At a pinch they could manage with one weapon, after all Faith had no intention of fighting any battles. However, it would be good if the L-t had at least a pistol; more was always better than less. Lastly there was food; they could take what there was in the little kitchen, it wasn’t much but you could survive without food a lot longer than without water, so they’d have to manage.

Personnel; (Faith was nearly at the garden now) Lt Chase seemed a switched-on officer. Anyone who flew helicopters in a combat area had to have ‘balls’ so Faith wasn’t worried that the pilot would wimp out on her. Lt Chase appeared (on her short acquaintance) to be the sort of officer who’d insist on being left behind so she could cover your retreat! Not that Faith had any intention of letting that sort of thing happen. No, Lt Chase could be relied upon to act at all times in a military manner and leave the killing to someone who knew what they were doing, namely herself.

The kids? Well, thought Faith, they could be a problem, especially ‘The Brat’, the kid had started to stare at the L-t’s boobs and ass as well as her own; Faith wondered what was wrong with him. He’d no doubt think he should be in charge of any escape attempt; his sister on the other hand seemed to have formed a bond with Faith so she didn’t foresee too many problems with her. Anyway, Faith intended to escape in the middle of the night so with luck the kids would be half asleep and too tired to make too much of a protest.

Arriving back at the garden, Faith paused in the gateway through the high wall that surrounded the little area of green. The L-t was sitting in the shade reading one of the fashion magazines that the Raisuli’s followers had found for her over the months. Smiling, Faith wondered what the L-t would look like in a ball gown or something. Lt Chase might not be into girls but Faith was and the L-t was an attractive woman. 

Everything would be fine, no doubt the Marines were even now on their way to rescue her, the L-t and the kids, but… Smiling, Faith started to cross the garden towards where Lt Chase sat, she’d never been one to wait for someone to rescue her.

0=0=0=0

“Hi,” Cordelia looked up from her magazine as Faith came to sit beside her, “how’d the chess go?”

“Kicked his ass!” Faith replied with a grin.

“Ooo-rah!” Cordelia cheered quietly, “Go Army!”

“Tonight,” Faith added as she picked up a magazine and started to flick though the pages.

“What?” Cordelia resisted the temptation of looking at her new friend as if she’d gone insane.

“We leave tonight,” Faith explained while apparently reading an article on how to have better orgasms (not something she’d ever had a problem with), “just after midnight.”

“You sure?” Cordelia turned a page slowly.

“Sure,” Faith nodded, “got everything scoped out, just follow my lead and be ready to slap ya hand over the brat’s mouth as soon as he tries to take charge.”

“On it,” Cordelia agreed before going back to her magazine.

0=0=0=0

**Later.**

Waking up in the darkness of the room she shared with Cordelia, Faith’s internal clock told her it was time to go. Swinging her legs out of bed she placed them softly on the floor before standing up and reaching out for Cordy’s shoulder.

“Hey, L-t,” Faith called softly.

“Whur?” groaned Cordelia.

“Time to leave,” Faith explained.

“Yeah,” Cordelia sat up and rubbed at her eyes, “okay, I’m awake.”

“Get the kids,” Faith said as she sneaked towards the door of their room, “I’ll deal with the guard.”

Leaving Cordelia to her part of the mission, Faith padded across the main room; neither woman had got undressed when they’d gone to bed, after all no one ever came into check on them. Reaching the door, Faith rested her ear gently against the wood and listened intently. Her super-ears picked up the sound of the guard outside the door snoring as if he was in the room right there with her. Smiling at her luck, she wrapped her hands around the lock and exerted slow and gentle pressure slowly pulling the lock from its place on the door.

Listening carefully Faith couldn’t detect any change in the guards breathing. Opening the door squietly, she looked out into the darkened corridor. Her super-night-enhanced eyes told her there was one guard asleep to the left of where she now stood. His rifle was propped against the wall between him and the door. Reaching around the door frame, Faith carefully picked up the rifle and moved it to her side of the door where it wouldn’t be knocked over and possibly go off. Stepping out into the corridor, she looked down at the guard, he’d never know how lucky he was. If he’d been awake, Faith would have killed him, quickly and without hesitation.

As he was asleep she could spare his life; grabbing hold of his head with her right hand Faith slammed the back of his head against the wall. The guard groaned before slipping out of his chair and falling softly to the floor. Smiling at a job well done, Faith quickly searched her victim and came up with a couple of spare magazines and a knife. Stepping back into the apartment, Faith passed the knife to Cordelia before picking up the AK. Looking at her fellow escapees, she smiled.

“Okay guys, it’s time for us to leave,” she whispered.

“But I don’t think we should,” Simon Neidermyer pointed out in a loud whisper, “how will my father be able to pay the ransom if we’re not here?”

“L-t?” Faith glanced at Cordelia as she quickly checked the AK over making sure it was loaded and the safety catch was on.

Turning towards the door again, Faith heard Cordelia explaining the facts of life to the boy (and she didn’t mean the ones about where babies came from); it was more to do with what she’d do with the knife Faith had given her if he didn’t do as he was told.

“Alright people,” Faith slipped the bag of food over her shoulder as she headed on out the door, “let’s move like we mean it!”

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

7.

**Dawn, the Yemali Desert.**

“You better go on and leave me,” Cordelia said quietly as she swayed in her saddle, “give me one of the rifles I’ll watch your back.”

“No way, L-t,” Faith turned to look at the Marine, she could see the pain hidden just behind the woman’s eyes, “does the fact that the army had to come an’ rescue you hurt your delicate Marine pride that much ya have to do something stupidly heroic?”

“Hell, yeah,” Cordy forced a smile, as she rubbed her leg, “I’d never be able to live with myself…” Cordy paused for a moment before starting to whisper urgently, “…look, Chief, I can’t go on, my leg…”

“Let me see,” Faith rode her horse around Cordelia’s so she was on the same side as Cordy’s damaged leg.

The escape had been going well, too well, Faith now realised. After taking out the guard on their door the two women had led the kids down to the stables. Here Faith had found and ‘dealt with’ the one sleepy guard looking after the horses and acquired another rifle, but only one more spare magazine. Quickly they saddled up and filled water skins before leading the horses across courtyard towards the gate where Faith took down two more guards and relieved them of their spare ammunition.

After heaving Cordelia up onto her horse, Faith had led the little party out of the fort and through the small village that lay in front of the fort’s gate. They were about half a mile away from the fort and village before Faith let anyone else up on their horses. Stealth up until then had been more important than speed; the longer it took for El Raisuli to realise his hostages had gone the better. Okay, Faith now thought she should have hidden the unconscious guards, but what would have happened if someone had come along as she’d stuffed the bodies into closets?

They’d made good time as they rode at a steady canter over the flat semi-desert only having to slow to a walk when they crossed one of the low, stony ridges that broke up an otherwise monotonous plain. It was about an hour before dawn when Faith noticed that Cordelia was starting to flag and sway in her saddle. Slowing the party to a walk she’d gone to see what was wrong; Faith was no expert but it didn’t look like anything good.

“Crap,” Faith breathed as she saw Cordy’s trouser leg stretched tightly over her knee and lower leg; leaning down from her saddle she touched the swollen leg so she could get an idea of how bad it was.

“OWW!” Cordelia gasped, “That hurt!”

Sitting back up, Faith glanced ahead to where the Neidermyer kids rode side by side unaware of what was happening behind them.

“I better have a look at that,” Faith said quietly, she was interrupted by Cordelia before she could bring the group to a halt.

“You better help me down from this horse, Chief,” Cordelia announced with steely resolve, “Hide me behind a rock with a rifle and a water skin. Any pursuit’s bound to follow us this way and I can hold them up for ages while you…”

“What is it with you Marines?” Faith whispered urgently, “You all watched ‘Sands of Iwo Jima’ too much when you were kids?”

“What?” Cordelia looked puzzled, ‘The Sands of Iwo Jima’ she reasoned must be some Marine based war film (of course she knew about Iwo Jima, what Marine didn’t?), but watching war films had never been on her ‘to do’ list even when she’d been dating Xander Harris.

“Look,” Faith brought her horse to a halt and looked around, “listen up an’ listen good…I ain’t leaving you behind so ya can go all ‘Arnie’ on me an’ play the hero, you got that, Marine?”

“But Faith…” Cordy’s eyes started to blur as they filled with tears, “…it really hurts, I…”

“Okay,” Faith looked around for some cover; they were at the foot of one of the ridges, she pointed to a group of rocks about fifty metres away, “we’ll rest here a while an’ I’ll look at the leg, okay?”

“Okay,” Cordelia agreed reluctantly.

“Hey, kids!” Faith called and pointed to the rocks as soon as the teens turned to look at her, “head for those rocks, we’ll take five.”

“I thought that making as much distance as we could was the important thing here, Ms Lehane,” Simon Neidermyer pointed out not unreasonably.

“Plan’s changed kid,” Faith replied as she took hold of Cordy’s reins and led her over to the rocks.

“First you want us to hurry now you want us to stop,” Neidermyer replied angrily, “do you know what you’re doing?”

“Ask me that when I stake ya out for the scorpions and sand-spiders,” Faith said with low voiced menace, “now move!”

Once behind the rocks, Faith jumped from her horse and rushed to help Cordelia.

“I can’t get down,” Cordy announced after a moment or two struggling, “I can swing my injured leg over the saddle and it won’t take my weight if I dismount the other way.”

“Here,” Faith walked around to the same side as Cordy’s injured leg, “get your feet outta the stirrups an’ just fall towards me, I’ll catch ya.”

“Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen,” Cordy glanced down at Faith a look of total disbelief on her face.

“Well,” Faith shrugged, “ya could stay up there all day.”

“Okay,” Cordelia sighed reluctantly, “here goes.” Sliding and falling from her saddle, Cordelia fell in an undignified bundle into Faith’s arms; finding her arm around Faith’s neck, Cordelia gave an embarrassed cough, “Hey if you don’t put me down, people will start to talk.”

“Ya worried about that?” Faith grinned as she put Cordy down.

“I’m worried that someone will see us and think I’m dating a soldier!” Cordy let Faith help her over to where she could sit with her back to a bolder.

It was only then that Cordy realised just how strong Faith must be; okay, Cordy knew she wasn’t any sort of heavy weight but she wasn’t light either and Faith had caught her like she was nothing. Either the army fed its people on something that made them extra strong or… Cordy watched Faith as she told the kids to tether the horses after she’d retrieved the rifles and water skins. Perhaps the USS Vera Cruz wasn’t the first time she’d seen Faith Lehane; there was some little memory at the back of her mind that the pain in her leg was stopping her from retrieving.

“Let me look at that,” Faith knelt, knife in hand by Cordy’s leg.

“Hey you be careful with that thing,” Cordelia eyed the knife’s keen blade with trepidation.

“Look,” Faith sighed as she started to cut Cordy’s trousers away from her leg, “don’t be such a whimp, I thought you Gyrines were supposed to be tough!”

“Not this one,” Cordy gasped as Faith ripped open her trouser leg; looking at Faith, Cordy knew the news wasn’t good.

“Well, at least its not gone all black,” Faith examined the leg without touching it, “but it don’t look good.”

“Oh god!” Cordy gulped as she caught sight of her badly swollen leg; sitting back against the rock behind her she watched Faith for a moment before speaking, “That’s it then, you’ve got to leave me behind.” Cordy kept talking so Faith couldn’t argue, “Look take the kids and head towards the rising sun, in a day maybe two you should reach the sea and…”

“Are you on drugs, L-t?” Faith asked in all seriousness, “I told ya before I ain’t leavin’ you behind.”

“Look this is an order!” Cordy’s eyes flashed and her voice rose a couple of octaves, she wasn’t used to people telling her ‘no’.

“An’ you’re delirious,” Faith reached out and touched Cordy’s forehead before she could move out of the way, “you've got a fever, ya don’t know what your talkin’ about.”

“Look here Chief Lehane…” it was at this moment that the memories from Sunnydale surfaced and came flooding back; that was where she’d seen Faith Lehane before, “Oh god…”

“What up, L-t?” Faith looked at Cordelia in concern, she’d gone as white as a sheet.

“Nothing,” Cordelia shook her head as she wondered where in Sunnydale she’d seen the Chief, “I just wish we had some painkillers.”

“Look, L-t,” Faith got up and brought over one of the water skins and gave it to Cordy, “I’m not leavin’ ya behind an’ that’s final, it’s a Ranger thing, we don’t leave buddies, or even Marines behind, got that?”

Looking at her, Cordelia suddenly realised Faith actually meant what she was saying and unless she was way out with reading Faith’s body language, she’d do whatever it took to get them all to safety. Just for a moment Cordelia wondered how long the army had been recruiting slayers (because that was what Faith had to be) and what Buffy thought about that. 

“Chief…Faith,” Cordy began slowly. 

“Yeah?” Faith took a swig of water before looking at the injured Marine.

“You sure we’ve not met before?” Cordy asked, “Before Nunca-Aterriza I mean?”

“No, I mean sure as I can be,” Faith shook her head, “why d’ya ask?”

“No reason,” Cordy looked into Faith’s eyes for a moment and saw not a flicker of worry or recognition, “I must have seen you on the Vera Cruz, maybe it’s the fever making me think weird stuff. You ever been to Sunnydale?”

“Not you as well?” Faith sighed, “Yeah, look,” Faith shook her head and sighed again, “I got grabbed by some black project, mad-scientist-bitch when I was eighteen or so, she did some experiments on me, turned me into something else. My first mission was in Sunnydale, it ended badly, I still haven’t remembered everything.”

“No shit?” Cordy gasped as she reached out to take one of Faith’s hand’s in her own, a thought hit her and she just had to ask, “What sort of experiments?”

“She made me stronger, faster, the whole nine yards,” Faith forced a grin, “meet the world's first genuine super-soldier, L-t.”

“Oh my god!” Cordy gasped as she looked Faith up and down; but she looked so normal, she told herself.

“There’s some other stuff too,” Faith continued, “about being in a coma for eight months and losing by memory…”

“Coma?” Cordy queried, “Memory?”

“Yeah,” Faith forced a smile, “welcome to the weirdness that's my life,” she gave a genuine laugh, “maybe when we get outta here I’ll tell you the full story that’ll really blow ya mind!”

“W-what’s w-wrong, Chief?” Cordy asked nervously, Faith’s face had lost all signs of amusement and she appeared to be listening very hard.

“Kids, get down!” Faith called as she scooped up one of the rifles, “Here…” Cordy looked up to see Faith holding one of the rifles out to her, “we’ve got company.”

“W-what?” Cordy listened but couldn’t hear anything; it was only them she realised that super-soldiers must have ‘super’ hearing, “What you got?” Cordy asked as she tried to shift her position to see over the rocks.

“Two maybe three Technicals,” Faith replied as she watched a cloud of dust about a mile away.

“The Raisuli’s men?” Cordy asked.

“Not sure,” Faith checked her rifle and did a quick mental count of their ammunition.

Two AK’s and six magazines weren’t much to take on maybe three Technicals and a possible total of eighteen men (if she allowed for six men per Technical). Not much but do-able after all wasn’t she the super-solder her friends had called ‘Slay’ and if she could capture one of the trucks it would make transporting L-t Cordelia easier. The trucks were now about half a mile away and had resolved themselves into three distinct shapes at the heads of three dust plumes. Chances were, Faith told herself, that the Skinnies didn’t even know they were here.

“What’s going on, Ms Lehane,” Simon Neidermyer demanded as he stood up in full view of the Skinnies.

“What part of ‘Kids get down’ don’t you understand asshole!?” Faith grabbed the teen and pulled him down behind a rock; if the Skinnies hadn’t seen them before they certainly had now.

It looked like it was time to fight, Faith looked over the top of her rock and saw the Skinnies had stopped their Technicals about two-hundred-and-fifty metres away.

“Okay,” Faith passed Cordelia a spare magazine, “L-t you stay here an’ look after the kids.”

“What are you going to do?” Cordy asked as she checked out her AK.

“I’m gonna try an’ get us a ride,” Faith smiled reassuringly as she quietly cocked her rifle, “if I don’t get back…” Faith gave Cordy a significant look before shifting her gaze to the children, “…ya know what to do.”

Cordelia nodded before clutching hold of Faith’s arm, “But, you _are_ coming back, right?”

“Hey, L-t, I’m way too young an’ pretty not to come back!” Faith stood up to look over the rock once more.

“ _Semper Fi_ Chief,” Cordy called as she watched Faith disappear between the rocks, ‘Always _Faith_ -ful’, yeah, she hoped.

0=0=0=0

Slipping between the rocks, Faith got herself into a good firing position. So far the Skinnies had given no indication that they’d seen anything or anyone, but they sure looked suspicious. Watching the Skinnies, Faith worked out her target priorities. There was a guy studying the rocks with binoculars, he was probably the leader; he would be the first to die. Next she’d take out the drivers and after that… Well, she’d wait and see if there was an ‘after that’.

Getting herself comfortable, Faith put the rifle to her shoulder and sighted at the guy with the binoculars. It was at about this point that she hoped that the AK was well maintained. Two-hundred-fifty-metres, or there abouts, was a long shot for an AK, particularly one she’d not fired and didn’t know if the sights were out or not. Controlling her breathing, Faith drew a bead on the leader and aimed for the centre of his chest. Letting out her last breath slowly, Faith stroked the trigger twice.

The AK bucked against her shoulder and the leader guy threw up his arms as he fell from the back of the truck. Not bothering to change position, Faith sighted at the driver of the left hand Technical and fired off another two shots. Quickly she fired two rounds at each driver’s position before ducking down and snaking off on her belly through the rocks.

Cries of consternation rose from the direction of the trucks as machine gun fire slammed into the boulders all around her showering her with bits of chipped stone. When she felt that the return fire was landing somewhere over to her right, Faith risked a look between two rocks. Men were standing in the backs of two of the Technicals directing machine gun fire in the general direction of her last position. These two vehicles were stationary and it looked as if she’d hit the drivers. The third truck was moving towards the rocks and the men in the back were searching for a target to use their recoilless rifle on.

About a dozen men were running around firing wildly at the rocks, stray rounds cracked over Faith’s head as she once again put the AK to her shoulder. Working her way along the line of dismounted Skinnies, Faith fired twice at each man. Hitting two times in three she soon had the surviving Skinnies heading in the opposite direction. Turning her attention to the moving Technical, Faith fired the remainder of her magazine in one short burst. One of the recoilless’ crewmen fell out of the back of the truck as the vehicle jerked to a halt and started to back up.

Ducking back into cover, Faith quickly swapped magazines before crawling closer to the Skinnies who’d now apparently remembered an important appointment elsewhere. Popping up behind another rock, Faith fired off about half a magazine on full automatic. Gratified to see another couple of Skinnies fall to the ground she watched as two of the Technicals bounced at high speed across the desert sand.

“Hoo-rah!” Faith cheered quietly as she picked her way towards the abandoned pick-up, “Now I have a truck and a machine gun.”

Her celebration was cut short, however, when she saw more dust clouds heading towards her at high speed across the sand.

“Oh, crap!” Faith muttered quietly.

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

8.

**Fifty feet above the Indian Ocean just of the Yemalian Coast.**

Sitting with his legs hanging out of the cargo door of the UH-1, Lieutenant Ring watched the sea slip by underneath him as the coast got closer. For just a moment he idly contemplated the beauty of the scene; miles of sparkling white sand, warm inviting water…hundreds of hungry sharks... With a wry smile, Ring shook his head, if it wasn’t for all the sharks off shore, Yemalia could make a fortune as a vacation destination. As it was any vacationer foolish enough to swim in those inviting waters wouldn’t be coming back to ‘Sunny Yemalia’ next year.

However, as the prospects of him opening a hotel in Yemalia were slim to say the least and he got back to the business in hand, which was; the capture of Pasha Auda Abu Tayi. The plan was deceptively simple. While ‘A’ and ‘B’ Company’s of the 1st of the 12th were landing on the beaches just south of Mogador and thus drawing away the attention of the Yemalian armed forces and their Chinese backers. Lt Ring’s small force would be crossing the coast to the north of Mogador, they’d swing around behind the city and then land in the grounds of the royal palace. They’d take the palace using speed, surprise and the natural aggressive fighting spirit of the US Marine; lastly they’d arrest the Pasha. Hopefully once the Pasha was in American hands he could be forced into negotiating in good faith for the release of the American hostages held by the Raisuli.

Distracted from these thoughts by the words of the pilot as he told Ring that they were five minutes from target, Ring turned to his platoon sergeant, Staff Sergeant Jones, better known as ‘Stitch Jones’ and gave the signal for ‘five minutes’. For a moment Ring thought how good it was to be back in ‘Recon Platoon’, and then how sad it was that the only face from ‘his’ old Recon Platoon that was still with the unit was Stitch. He himself had left Recon a couple of years ago to go onto bigger and better things, he was only in command of Recon now because their regular officer had been injured in a training accident and Ring was the only officer with Recon experience available to take command.

Just for a moment Ring wished Gunny Highway was here, but the Gunney had retired and was living with his wife somewhere near Chicago. However, Stitch was a good and experienced NCO, a much better Marine than when Ring had come to Recon before the landings on Nunca-Aterriza. From what he could tell Stitch Jones had the makings of another Gunny Highway, the platoon seemed well trained and motivated, he’d not need to worry about how his men performed. They’d do their job come what may; his platoon had the support of no less than four Super-Cobra gunships, this should be a walk in the park. Ring was an experienced Marine himself now and he knew how ‘walks in the park’ could turn into desperate battles for survival in seconds.

Thrusting his doubts and worries to one side, Ring looked up to see the helicopters making up his little force were now over the coast and if anything, flying lower now than they had over the sea. He could just see the outskirts of Mogador to the south and east, any moment now they’d be starting their run towards the palace. Ring’s radio operator crawled over and tugged on his arm before yelling in his ear over the noise of the engine and rotors. Apparently ‘A’ and ‘B’ Company’s had landed successfully and were now heading for central Mogador after taking the airport. So far there’d been no serious opposition. Maybe, thought Ring as he caught his first glance of the palace, the Yemali’s Chinese backers had told them not to fight back; perhaps they could do this without a shot being fired.

One minute out and Ring could clearly see the palace; this was the first time he’d seen it for real but he had studied satellite photos and the plans of the building. Their plan was sound and his men were well trained and equipped this should be a five minute operation followed by a boring wait for the relief force to arrive. Once again Ring imagined a walk in the park turning into a bloody mess. The helo rose up over the houses before swooping down into the grounds of the palace, there was time for one last check of his rifle before the chopper stopped and hovered about three feet off the ground.

“MOVE IT MARINES!” Ring yelled although he doubted that anyone could hear him over the roar of the chopper’s engines.

Jumping down onto the well tended lawn, Ring paused for half a second before sprinting for the cover provided by the shrubs and bushes surrounding the lawn. Diving under a flowering shrub, Ring felt how incongruous his warlike appearance must look in amongst the beauty of this hidden garden. Turning to look over his shoulder he saw the last of Recon platoon jump from the helicopters before they pulled up into the air and flew off. Just for a moment the only sounds that he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating and the noise made by the Cobras as the orbited the palace.

“GO! GO! GO!” Ring yelled as he scrambled to his feet and started for the palace proper.

The plan called for one party to enter the palace and capture the Pasha, while another party secured the garden just in case they had to call in the choppers and evacuate in a hurry. By previous agreement, Ring was going to go after the Pasha and Jones was going to secure the garden.

As he ran towards the palace Ring could sense the men of his team spread out behind him. Looking up at the palace he saw the first of the Pasha’s guards appear out of the building. The guards were all ‘Africans’ dressed in smart camouflaged fatigues and clutching shiny new AK 74’s, they seemed confused by the American’s sudden appearance in the palace's grounds. Without waiting for the guards to get their act together he fired a short burst from his M4 at the closest little huddle of guards. Gratified to see one of the guards go down, Ring almost jumped out of his skin when the rest of the Marines in his force opened fire. For a few seconds the air was full of the sound of gunfire as SAW’s and M4’s chopped the guards to dog meat.

Very soon the few surviving guards had retreated into the palace and opened a desultory fire from the cover of the doors and windows. Throwing himself against the wall of the palace, Ring took a moment to swap his half used magazine for a full one and fix his bayonet. Working his way along the palace’s back wall he came to a stop under a window from which two rifle barrels stuck out and fired at his men. Taking a grenade he pulled the pin, let go of the spoon and counted off a couple of seconds before tossing the bomb through the window. Moments later there was a *BANG!* and a small puff of grey smoke billowed from the window. Satisfied that he’d dealt with that threat, Ring continued his journey along the wall and was just in time to see about a platoon’s worth of guards erupt from around the corner of the palace. The locals came on at a dead run yelling and firing wildly; they were caught in a cross fire from Rings team and Jones’ team out in the garden. Men tumbled to the ground as the wild charge was brought to a premature and bloody halt. For a moment or two, Ring fired steadily into the attackers until he saw they were on the run.

“COME ON YOU DEVIL DOGS!” Ring yelled at the top of his voice, “LETS TAKE THIS FUCKING PALACE!”

Leading the way into the palace, Ring shot down a guard who appeared out of the darkened interior. Feeling his men follow him in, Ring moved on pausing only to fire his rifle at some ill defined shadow or toss a grenade into a room as he passed. Ramming his bayonet into the stomach of one of the guards who’d sprung out of nowhere to challenge him, Ring was just in time to save the life of a Marine who’d gone down. Withdrawing his bayonet by kicking his victim in the stomach, Ring shot down a guard who was standing over one of his men and about to shoot him at close range. Not giving the defenders a chance to draw breath and organise a coherent defence, Ring led his men out into the broad sunlight of a courtyard where a fountain cooled the air. From the plans he’d studied he knew the Pasha’s quarters were on the other side of this open space.

For a moment the assault turned into a wild melee as the palace guards launched one final desperate counter-attack. The yard was filled with the sound of gunfire and men’s screams as the battle for the palace was fought out with rifle fire, grenades and the bayonet. Finally the guards gave way and Ring was able to lead his men towards the Pasha’s quarters. Jumping over a dead body, Ring looked up to see the Pasha standing in the shade of an overhanging piece of roof surrounded by the last of his personal guards. Throwing himself into the battle one last time, Ring shot or bayoneted the retainers that came towards him in their attempts to save the Pasha. For his part the Pasha stood impassively as if watching a soccer game. Finally Ring shot down the last of the Pasha’s guards and presented his blooded bayonet at the Pasha’s throat.

“Lieutenant Boyd Ring, United States Marine Corps,” Ring introduced himself as he panted for breath, “and you Sir are my prisoner!”

“Lieutenant Ring,” the Pasha replied impassively, “you are a very dangerous man.”

“Thank-you sir,” Ring relaxed and gave the Pasha a half smile, “I try to do my best.”

0=0=0=0

**The Oval Office.**

“Madam President?” Vince Taylor, the President’s special aide, hovered in the doorway to the Oval office.

“What can I do for you Vince?” President Allen looked up from an intelligence report she was reading about the now defunct Human Resources Initiative.

“General Allyson to see you Ma’am,” Vince replied quietly.

“Oh! Send him in,” President Allen closed the file and stood up to greet the Head of the Joint Chiefs as he walked briskly into the room.

“Madam President,” he strode over and shook the President warmly by the hand.

“I’m hoping, General,” President Allen gestured for the General to join her on the couches in front of her desk, “by the barely concealed smile on your face that you have good news for me?”

“Indeed I do Ma’am,” General Allyson waited until the President had seated herself before sitting down himself.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense general,” President Allen smiled.

“Of course, Madam President,” General Allyson paused for just a second before making his report, “I’ve just been informed that our operation to seize control of the Yemali Government, namely Pasha Auda Abu Tayi,” again General Allyson paused, “has been one hundred percent successful.”

“Thank God for that,” President Allen sighed with relief, “casualties?”

“So far as I know,” General Allen continued in a graver tone of voice, “and you understand, Ma’am, these are only preliminary reports; one Marine was killed when he fell into the sea and was attacked by sharks and another seven Marines were injured by Yemali soldiers.”

“Yemalian casualties?” the President wanted to know.

“Acceptable, Ma’am,” General Allyson informed her, “mainly the guards at the Pasha’s palace. Marine Lieutenant Ring was heavily outnumbered there and…”

“General, you miss-understand me,” President Allen explained, “I can’t put this over as aid to the Yemali Government if we’re wading through rivers of Yemali blood. We need to get in, do what we have to and get out with as few casualties as possible.”

“Of course Ma’am,” General Allyson nodded his head in understanding.

“When this is all over,” President Allen sat back in her seat and relaxed a little, “I’d like to meet this Lt Ring and maybe a few of his men, invite them to the Whitehouse…”

“I’m sure he and his men would be honoured, Madam President,” General Allyson nodded before continuing. “As I said Madam President this is just a preliminary report, I thought you’d want to know straight away I’ll have a more detail report on your desk before the end of the day.”

“Thank-you General,” President Allen stood up indicating that the meeting was over; the General climbed to his feet and stood facing his President, “Send my congratulations on a mission successfully carried out to the men and women involved. How long do you think it’ll take to open channels to this El Raisuli?”

“Once we’ve got everything in place, Ma’am it shouldn’t take long,” General Allyson explained, “El Raisuli is an honourable man not a religious fanatic. Once he sees that we’re negotiating in good faith he’ll come to terms, at least that’s my reading of the man, he’s made his point.”

“I hope you’re right General,” President Allen started to walk slowly back to her desk, “and General I’d like to schedule a meeting with you about these Initiative people as soon as possible.”

“I’m at your service whenever you want to meet, Madam President,” General Allyson reassured his Commander in Chief.

“Thank-you General,” President Allen sat back down behind her desk, “as soon as you have any news…?”

“Of course Madam President,” General Allyson replied.

0=0=0=0

**The Yemali Desert.**

“You are a great deal of trouble Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli sighed as he walked up to Faith, “Or should I address you as ‘Chief’ Lehane?”

“Oh, crap,” Faith said softly as she laid down her AK 47 in the sand.

0=0=0=0


	9. Chapter 9

9.

**El Raisuli’s Fortress.**

“So, what-cha-gonna do with us?” Faith asked as she moved her knight across the chess board.

It was the afternoon after the Raisuli and his men had tracked Faith, Cordelia and the children down during their failed escape attempt. Seeing the half dozen Technicals coming towards her across the sand, Faith had decided not to fight, had she been by herself that decision might well have been different, but she wasn’t, she had other people’s lives to consider. Being fairly confident that El Raisuli would do nothing to her, Cordelia or the kids, especially if she made it clear that the entire escape had been her idea and her idea alone; she’d laid her rifle down in the sand and raised her hands in the air.

“What I don’t understand, Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli studied the board for a moment before moving a pawn to threaten her knight, “is why you felt the need to try and escape?” El Raisuli glanced up at her trying to read her face, “Are you not well cared for? Have any of my men laid a violent hand on you? Have I in some way offended you?”

“Apart from the kidnapping, ya mean?” Faith asked moving a bishop.

“Yes, well, there is that I suppose,” El Raisuli admitted after taking her knight.

“Its my duty to try and escape,” Faith moved a pawn which her opponent took after only a moments thought, “and its Lt Chase’s duty too and…wouldn’t you in my position?”

“True, true,” El Raisuli admitted with a nod of his head, he moved a rook and Faith had to keep herself from smiling in triumph, “and why did you find it necessary to deceive me into thinking you were more than you appeared to be?”

“The US Army thing?” Faith asked innocently as she shifted her queen a couple of squares to her right, “Again wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose,” El Raisuli sighed before moving his own queen, “you are a great deal of trouble Miss Lehane, how am I supposed to do the will of Allah with you going around upsetting His and my plans?”

“Maybe it’s the will of Allah?” Faith smiled as she pushed a pawn into position.

“Perhaps you are right,” El Raisuli replied after a long pause as he studied the board, he took Faith’s pawn with on of his own, “I’ve decided that once the Americans make me an offer for your release that I can honourably accept I will let you go…”

“What!?” Faith stared at the Raisuli as she held a pawn in her hand.

“It was never my intention to keep you here any longer that I really needed to,” El Raisuli continued, “and as I have already mentioned on many occasions that you are a great deal of trouble Miss Lehane, as much as I enjoy our little games its time for you to go back to your President Allen.”

Placing the pawn on the board, Faith allowed El Raisuli to take it; over the next few moves there was a rapid exchange of pieces which left the Raisuli’s king trapped in the corner of the board with no escape route, he’d fallen into her trap again.

“It would seem, Miss Lehane that you have won again,” El Raisuli said with a small smile, “I will miss our games.”

Just for a moment Faith thought there might be another meaning to her opponent’s words, but she chose not to worry about them.

“When you said you’re letting me go,” Faith replied slowly, “ya meant Ms Chase an’ the kids too, right?”

“Of course,” El Raisuli looked at her as if she was mad to suggest any other course of action.

“Cool,” Faith smiled, “I gotta say you’re the best kidnapper I’ve ever come across.”

“There is one thing you might be able to help me with,” El Raisuli started to place chess pieces into their box, “Americans love their children, yes?”

“Yeah,” Faith shrugged, everyone she knew who had kids loved them, her parents certainly loved her, “why?”

“A most unusual thing happened when my agents approached the children’s father for ransom,” El Raisuli’s face grew darker as he spoke.

“What happened?” Faith asked with a frown.

“When my agent suggested that for a very reasonable sum, in dollars, that Mr Neidermyer could have his children back; do you know what he said?”

“No,” Faith replied before adding, “an’ I’m guessing by the look on ya face I ain’t gonna like this…”

“He said, ‘keep them’!” El Raisuli looked horrified, “He told my man that I could keep them both and do what I wanted with them, what kind of man is that, I ask you?”

“The kind that’s an asshole,” Faith replied with a sad sign.

“Promise me this one thing, Chief Lehane,” El Raisuli leaned towards Faith across the table and looked deeply into her eyes. “You are a brave and honourable woman, promise me that you will watch over those children when I release you.”

“I-I’ll do what I can, Sir,” Faith slipped into her army persona as if she was talking to a senior officer, “my superiors might be able to do something…”

“All I can ask is that you try,” El Raisuli said after another long pause.

“So,” Faith shrugged and changed the subject, “when are we going home?”

“As soon as I can arrange it,” El Raisuli replied, “as soon as the American Pasha makes me an offer I cannot refuse,” he smiled at Faith warmly before sighing long and hard, “I sometimes think that if things had been different that you and I could have…” El Raisuli sighed again this time with sorrow, “…just the dreams of an old man nothing more. You have opened my eyes to many things,” he gestured at the chess pieces in their box, “in more ways than one.”

“Yeah right,” Faith said quietly, was this guy coming on to her; was he fantasising about her being one of his wives?

“However, on a more practical level,” El Raisuli stood up, “do I have your word not to try and escape while I arrange your release with the American Pasha?”

“You’ve got five days,” Faith replied after a moments thought, “after that no promises.”

“Hmm,” El Raisuli shrugged, “I would have given me three, but what’s two days between friends…” he looked into Faith’s eyes once more, “…we are friends are we not?”

“Yeah,” Faith admitted grudgingly, “maybe.”

“HA!” El Raisuli laughed as he turned to leave the room, “You are a great deal of trouble Miss Lehane!”

0=0=0=0

**El Raisuli’s Fortress four days later.**

“How’s the leg?” Faith asked as she lowered herself down onto the wickerwork recliner next to Cordelia’s.

“Better,” Cordy replied as she put down the romantic novel she was reading; soppy novels weren’t really her thing but stuck out in the desert she was grateful for any distraction, “the antibiotics old Raisuli got me really cleared up the infection, I’ll be up and dancing any day soon.”

“You dance?” Faith asked.

“Yeah,” Cordy admitted, “at parties and such, nothing special y’know.”

”I tango,” Faith said sadly as she remembered Willow being in her arms as they moved across the dance floor, “and salsa, anything Latin American.”

“Get outta here!” Cordy smiled as she turned to look at Faith in surprise.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded her head, “took it up when I found I had to start going to formal functions, y’know?”

“That’s so cool,” Cordelia smiled, “so what are we going to do, dance our way out of here?”

“Still another day until our parole runs out,” Faith had said she wouldn’t try to escape for five days and there was only one day left before the time limit ran out.

“You are planning on escaping, right?” Cordelia asked in all seriousness, “I have no desire to stay out here any longer. Forget leaving me behind I’ll crawl outta here if I have to!”

“Don’t worry, L-t,” Faith grinned, “not gonna happen when we go we’re going in style.”

“Hey look,” Cordy laughed, “if you find me a chopper I’ll fly us out.”

“Look,” Faith settled back in her chair, “I think the old goat has got his Technicals stashed somewhere close.” Cordelia nodded for Faith to continue, “He caught up with us way too quickly for those trucks to be stashed too far away so…”

“So?” Cordelia asked letting a little impatience creep into her voice.

“So,” Faith smiled, “I found my way up to that high tower,” she gestured over her shoulder towards a lookout tower in the corner of the fortress, “and had a good look around…”

Remembering what she’d seen, Faith thanked Professor Walsh for giving her super-eyesight. From the top of the tower she’d been able to see for miles. In fact she’d been able to see the sea! Only a faint sliver of blue, but the sea none the less. This time when they escaped she’d have no doubts which way they needed to go. But, it was what she’d seen closer to the fortress that had given her new hope.

“Go on,” Cordy insisted, “or is this a new method the army’s developed for torturing Marines?”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith laughed, “don’t get ya panties inna bunch.”

“Sheesh,” Cordy sighed, “the people the army promote these days.”

“Nah, look,” Faith became serious again, “I saw what looked like a gully or something, I couldn’t see into it from the fort but I did see guys going in and out of it and I saw the edge of some camouflage nets.”

“You think Goat-guy is hiding something in this gully?” Cordelia asked once more the Marine officer.

“And what else would he be hiding if it’s not his transport?” Faith asked rhetorically, “It’s where I’d hide ‘em.”

“Okay,” Cordy nodded, she was in charge here and any decision on escapes came down to her in the end; if it all went wrong it would be her responsibility, “so you think we have transport, what about getting us and the kids out of here?”

“No problem getting you an’ me out, L-t,” Faith admitted, “but it’s the kids…”

Since their first escape attempt, El Raisuli had moved the Neidermyer kids to quarters on the other side of the fort. He’d guessed correctly that Faith and Cordelia wouldn’t leave the children behind if and when they tried to escape again.

“Look,” Faith sighed, “if it was just me or you and me, L-t, I could go all Terminator on these guy's asses and leave ‘em in a pool of their own blood, but…”

“It’s not just you and me it’s the kids as well and…” Cordelia paused as she watched Faith closely for a moment, “…you kinda like the old goat don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Faith admitted with a shrug, “so, I have father figure issues and…” Faith frowned before continuing, “…as a kidnapper he’s been pretty cool, one day I’ll tell you about how I was kidnapped and kept in a cellar.”

“Yeah,” Cordy had to admit if it hadn’t been for El Raisuli’s men she’d have died a long painful death at the hands of the militiamen who’d shot down her helo. “So you don’t go all Terminator on their asses.”

“So we go for stealth not mayhem,” Faith pointed out, “minimum casualties…”

“Yeah,” Cordy nodded her head as she tried to imagine Chief Lehane going for ‘minimum casualties’.

From what she’d seen, Faith was a vicious and efficient fighter; give her half a chance Cordy reckoned Faith’d kill everyone in the fortress if she had to. But there was also something else there too. Something that told her that Faith was capable of great gentleness and self control; for instance she’d not killed ‘The Brat’ when he’d given away their position. No, all things considered Cordelia felt comfortable and safe around Faith, it was a pity she wasn’t a Marine.

“You okay, L-t?” Faith asked the concerned look on her face.

“Yeah,” Cordy nodded, “I’m fine…now explain to me how you plan to get to the kids…”

0=0=0=0

“Greetings, El Raisuli!” Nadim Sawalha, Sherif of Wazan, strode into the old audience chamber that was now used as a command centre.

“Greetings, Nadim Sawalha,” cried El Raisuli as he stood up from studying the map spread out on the table in the middle of the room, “you have news?”

“Indeed I do,” Sawalha let himself be led over to a pair of chairs by a window, the two men sat down comfortable in each other’s presence. 

“You have spoken to the American Pasha?” El Raisuli asked.

“I have spoken to the American Pasha who is ‘advising’ your brother,” Sawalha explained, “The Americans have this fantasy that they don’t negotiate with ‘terrorists’!”

“Then how do they expect to free the hostages,” El Raisuli shrugged, “they’re not planning an attack surely?”

“No,” Sawalha shook his head, “the American President only wishes to shake the dust of Yemalia from her feet and never come here again.”

“And to achieve this, what does the President Allen propose?” El Raisuli asked with a knowing smile.

“Seven and a half million dollars, in cash and weapons as a ransom for the safe return of the hostages,” Sawalha explained, “plus all those who swear fealty to El Raisuli who are held in the prisons of Mogador to be returned to the Raisuli’s care.” Sawalha smiled widely, “Of course this will all appear to be a gift from your brother, the Americans will claim that this is none of their doing.”

“Even as a deception this sounds like a good deal,” El Raisuli smiled.

“The exchange is to take place in Neda the day after tomorrow,” Sawalha explained, “you should let me go in your place El Raisuli. Your brother will no doubt try to kill you after he has the Americans under his hand…”

“And then, no doubt, he will try to ring more concessions from the Americans before he releases them to the American Pasha’s care.”

“He would be foolish if he did,” Sawalha continued, “the patience of the President Allen is growing thin.”

“The patience of women often grows thin, my friend,” El Raisuli said with a chuckle, “of what matter is it to us?”

“It would be foolish to underestimate this President Allen,” Sawalha leaned towards his old friend and spoke softly, “I have read and spoken to learned men about this woman…”

“So?” El Raisuli noted the serious look in his friend’s eye.

“She is fearless,” Sawalha continued, “if you push her too far she will rain down destruction on your head the like of which you can not imagine.”

“Then I better not keep her waiting,” El Raisuli rose slowly to his feet, “I will accept the offer of the American Pasha and go to Neda to hand over the hostages in person.”

Sawalha didn’t look happy with his old friend’s plan but kept his objections to himself, for now.

“Now,” El Raisuli strode across the floor towards a door in the far corner, “I must tell my guests that they will be free the day after tomorrow. No doubt,” El Raisuli laughed, “Miss Lehane is just putting the finishing touches to her latest escape plan!”

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

10.

**The Whitehouse Situation Room, Washington DC.**

“What am I looking at?” President Allen asked as she watched the images on the large screen at the end of the room.

“That’s the picture from one of our unmanned reconnaissance drones, Ma’am,” General Allyson explained.

“And this is…?” President Allen hinted she needed more information.

“Sorry Ma’am,” General Allyson apologised, “the town you can see is Neda it’s about twenty miles north of Mogador, it’s where the hostage exchange will take place.”

“Oh good,” President Allen smiled as she studied the screen closely; while the picture was monochrome it was very sharp and you could make out figures moving about the buildings very clearly; the President frowned slightly at something. “Erm, General,” she pointed to several vehicles that were parked in the lee of buildings, “what are these?”

“They appear to be armoured vehicles, Ma’am,” General Allyson replied quietly, “we were more than a little concerned when we spotted them, but the Yemalies assured us that they were only there because the Pasha himself was overseeing the handover.”

“But…?” President Allen turned her face from the screen to look at her General.

“But, I’m not so sure Madam President,” General Allyson continued, “I have the strongest feeling that the Pasha is going to try some sort of double-cross to get his hands on this Raisuli fellow.”

“Do you think this would be a threat to our people, General?” President Allen asked.

“I do Ma’am,” Allyson agreed, “I don’t trust the Pasha, he’ll be wanting to regain ‘face’ in the eyes of the Chinese so I expect he’s hatched some plan to capture the Raisuli, I also don’t believe he intends to hand our people back to us without ringing some more concessions from us.”

“What proof have you, General?” asked the President.

“No proof, Ma’am,” the General sighed, “just a gut feeling…”

“A gut feeling, huh?” President Allen looked back at the screen, there did appear to be an unusual number of vehicles hidden away around the small town, “I think I’ll go with your ‘gut feeling’ General, what can we do about it?”

“With your permission, Madam President,” General Allyson gave a relieved smile, “I think we should make this a Marine problem.”

0=0=0=0

**A Ridge overlooking Neda, twenty-three kilometres North of Mogador.**

Having been woken at about three o’clock in the morning, Faith, Cordelia and the Neidermyer children had been loaded into the back of a Technical and driven away from the Raisuli’s fortress. As the dawning light had got brighter Faith was able to pick out more and more militia packed Technicals as they joined the small convoy that had started out from the fort. By the time the sun was above the horizon Faith could see thirty or forty vehicles moving at speed towards the coast, obviously the Raisuli was taking no chances.

Of the man himself Faith could see no trace, but she felt sure he’d be there, it simply just wouldn’t be his way not to be there when his hostages were handed over. The entire plan for the exchange was still something of a mystery to Faith, she and Cordy had only been given the barest of outlines. Basically she’d been told enough so that she wouldn’t attempt an escape before the exchange happened.

At about seven o’clock the convoy had slowed down then turned off the rough track they’d been following and deployed along the military crest of a ridge overlooking Neda, a fly blow collection of hovels on the Yemalian coast. Allowed to take a look at the town Faith had seen nothing untoward, however; this didn’t stop the mild outbreak of ambush cramps that made her feel edgy and itchy. Walking back to the Technical that had carried them to the ridge overlooking the town, Faith climbed up into the back of the truck and sat down next to Cordelia.

“Hey, L-t,” Faith got herself as comfortable as she could, “looks like we’ll be goin’ home soon.”

“So, why do you look like the sky’s going to fall?” Cordelia asked.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Faith didn’t bother trying to explain her feelings to Cordy; Cordelia was a combat pilot she knew all about ‘feeling’.

“You think the Raisuli’s going to double-cross someone and not hand us over?” Cordelia asked more than a little concerned; after nearly six months of captivity she wanted to go home.

“I don’t think the Raisuli’s gonna double-cross anyone but…” Faith paused as she ran her eye over the nearest Technicals, “…but why’d ya think he brought nearly all his troops?”

“Yeah,” Cordy sighed heavily as she followed Faith’s eyes, “so, Chief, you’re the Ranger what do you want me to do?”

“If the shit hits the fan, L-t,” Faith gave Cordy an evil grin, “I’m gonna go ‘Terminator’ on their asses, I want you to get the kids to cover asap, okay?”

“Me?” Cordy gestured to her leg, although the antibiotics had dealt with the infection that had caused her leg to swell up she still had to lean heavily on her walking stick when she moved.

“Hey you’re a Marine ain’t ya?” Faith asked, “Every man a rifleman an’ all that crap?”

“So not a man,” Cordy pointed out, “and I’m not going to be running any time soon.”

“Yeah,” Faith conceded the point, “but you can get the kids under cover when the bullets start flying, right?”

“Yeah sure,” Cordy nodded before turning to look at the children who sat on the tailgate watching the preparations all around them, “Hey, kids,” she called, “listen up.”

The two children turned and reluctantly shifted their attention from what was going on around them to where Cordelia sat.

“Look,” Cordy started to explain, “Miss Lehane thinks that there’s going to be trouble, so if there is you come with me and do what I say, alright?”

“I suppose so,” Simon Neidermyer replied with a heavy ‘teen’ sigh and a slight roll of his eyes, “but I really don’t think there’s going to be any problem, my father just wouldn’t allow it.”

“I think you’ve got too much faith in ya dad, kid,” Faith pointed out, “look if the L-t says move, you move like ya mean it, okay?”

Simon shrugged again, while Polly looked pleadingly in Faith’s direction.

“But Faith,” the girl said quietly, “no one’s going to be shooting are they?”

“Better safe than…” Faith was going to say ‘dead’ but stopped herself, “…sorry.” she took a deep breath, “Look just follow the L-t’s lead alright…?”

“Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli appeared next to the technical carrying Faith, he nodded politely to Cordelia, “Miss Chase, not planning another escape?”

“Of course we are,” Cordy replied coldly, “would you expect anything less from us?”

“Of course not,” El Raisuli admitted, “however I hope you can put your escape plans to one side for the moment,” he paused for a moment before continuing. “I won’t insult you by saying this is all your fault…being held hostage I mean, only I am responsible for that, I do not even claim that it was the Will of Allah.”

Cordelia and Faith exchanged looks before turning back to look at the Raisuli.

“I only wish to say that it has been a pleasure knowing you both,” El Raisuli admitted, “an education in some ways. I admit that I’d never suspected that women could be so brave and resourceful as you both have been. You have made me examine my beliefs in a way I’d never imagined.”

“Hey,” Faith shrugged, “all part of the service, man.”

“Finally,” El Raisuli shifted uncomfortably, “I just wish to apologise for keeping you from your homes for so long and wish you well in your futures…Miss Lehane would you join me in private for a moment?”

“Yeah,” Faith glanced at Cordy before she got up and jumped down from the truck, “sure, what d’ya want?”

“Be careful, Miss Lehane,” El Raisuli spoke softly, “I do not trust my brother, he will try to hold you to get something more from the American Pasha.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, “I’d sorta figured that out for myself.”

“If it happens I think there will be little I can do to help you,” El Raisuli confessed.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, man,” Faith gave him one her most murderous grins, “I can deal.”

“Yes,” El Raisuli nodded his head, “I believe you can…” the man gave a laugh before adding, “you know I almost feel sorry for the enemies of the United States if they have to face you,” again the old pirate chuckled, “things are changing, nothing is as it was, everything is shifting on the wind, but you Miss Lehane, will always be a great deal of trouble.”

With a final laugh and flash of white teeth from under his beard, El Raisuli turned away and walked off to meet whatever fate had in store for him, leaving Faith to shrug and go back to her friends.

0=0=0=0

“Well, my old friend,” El Raisuli slapped Sawalha on the back as they looked down on Neda, “you can almost smell the treachery from here!”

“Then let me go alone, my friend,” Sawalha offered, “I am not important enough for them to break their word, but if you were to enter that den of deceit…”

“The President Allen and the American Pasha have given their word, Sawalha,” El Raisuli laughed quietly, “how can I, El Raisuli, Lord of the Riff break mine?”

“Why do I feel like I’m saying ‘farewell’ for the last time?” Sawalha asked, “We both know you are walking into a trap.”

“Such is the Will of Allah,” El Raisuli pointed out, “I once told you that I might do more good for our cause dead than alive…”

“I remember the day well,” admitted Sawalha, “I also remember you spent nearly five years rotting in one of the Sultan’s jails as a result of it!”

“Indeed,” El Raisuli agreed with a smile, “but this time if I am captured or killed, raise the tribes and declare Jihad and drive the Pasha and his Chinese lackeys into the sea…” El Raisuli paused considering his next words carefully, “…then perhaps you should ask the Americans for help to make this a better country.”

“The American women have impressed you, yes?” Sawalha replied quietly.

“I admit it,” El Raisuli shrugged before embracing his friend, “perhaps it is the Will of Allah?” Looking at his watch he checked the time, “It is time old friend we must go…it has been…” El Raisuli gazed out to sea and smiled, “…fun.”

0=0=0=0

Sitting in the back of the Technical, Faith watched as the little convoy of three vehicles headed towards the town. As they bounced over the uneven ground, she planned what she’d need to do to give Cordy and the children the best hope of survival, of her own survival Faith didn’t give too good odds, but that came with the territory. Ever since Iraq, she’d know that one day she might have to give it up for her buddies and she was good with that. She’d had a good run, met some good people and, she hoped, done some good herself. Well, she told herself, the first thing she’d need was a gun.

Entering the collection of mud-brick hovels that masqueraded as a town, Faith started to notice the Yemali soldiers standing on the rooftops or in little groups on street corners. Visions of running for her life through the streets of Mogador when she’d been a no-nothing Spec 4 came back to haunt her. Then she was only just beginning to realise what she was capable of, now she knew stuff and this time she’d make them scream!

The Convoy turned into the dusty main street with the truck containing El Raisuli and his friend Sawalha leading the way. Each Technical had at least six militiamen in it, two had .50 calibre machine guns and one a recoilless rifle. The closer they got to the centre of town the more soldiers there seemed to be idly standing around. Again Faith watched these men carefully; their uniforms and equipment was new and well, ‘uniform’. Their weapons were held loosely in their hands, but that could change in a moment. Looking around the lead vehicle Faith saw a group of officers, some Yemali others Chinese, standing in the middle of the road as the convoy came to a halt.

“Release the prisoners,” called a Yemali officer as he strode towards the lead Technical.

“You have the money?” El Raisuli called.

“No!” Cried the officer, “But we have this!”

At the officer’s signal Yemali soldiers appeared on the rooftops of the building surrounding the main street. The soldiers who’d been standing idly by suddenly became very active and started to point their weapons at the trucks while still more soldiers boiled from the houses that lined the street. Distracted by the sound of vehicle motors, Faith turned to see a tracked armoured personnel carrier drive out of a side street and block the road behind them cutting off any hope of escape in that direction.

“I do not follow this brigand!” Sawalha yelled as he pointed his AK at the Raisuli’s head, “These men are my retainers and I expect gold for bringing you the Raisuli!”

At a gesture from the Yemali officer several soldiers advanced on the truck and dragged El Raisuli from the back of the vehicle. At the same time two more soldiers carried a strong box over to the truck and opened it for Sawalha’s inspection, happy with what he saw he nodded and let the soldiers put the box in his truck.

“Here,” Sawalha jerked his head towards Faith, Cordy and the children, “take your infidel whores they are of no use to me.”

At his words more Yemali soldiers pulled the hostages from the back of the Technical. Standing on the dusty road, Faith watched as Sawalha and his men started to back up their trucks as the APC moved out of the way. Very soon, Faith and her party stood facing the Yemalies all by themselves until two Chinese soldiers appeared and started to lead them away.

“NO!” called the Yemali officer who seemed to be doing all the talking, “They are the Pasha’s prisoners…”

The Chinese soldiers looked to their own officers for direction; the senior Chinese army man shrugged and signalled his troopers to hand over the hostages to the Yemalies. As the first Yemali grabbed hold of Faith’s arm and started to try and hustle her and Cordy away, she realised that the time had come. It was time to do or die and she’d started to realise that this time maybe she was going to die.

“Hey!” Faith struggled weakly against the soldiers as they dragged everyone towards one of the road side buildings, “what the freakin’ hell’s goin’ on?”

Managing to bring the two soldiers holding her to a halt, Faith turned to face the officer while Cordy and the kids were led inside the building.

“You are all now guests of the Pasha,” announced the officer with a smirk, “if your President Allen wants you back she must pay the Pasha for your return…”

“Okay,” Faith shrugged, “as long as I know…”

Turning slightly she collapsed the windpipe of one of the soldiers holding her with the edge of her hand while breaking the leg of the other with her foot. Before either man had fallen to the ground, Faith had snatched away the gun of the man who was now choking to death. Pulling back the charging handle on the AK, Faith pointed it at the little group of officers and fired sending them tumbling to the sand or running for their lives.

Swivelling from the waist, Faith shot down several more Yemalies as they slowly became aware of what was going on. Satisfied she’d caused enough death and destruction out in the open, she shot another man who tried to block her way as she headed for the building where Cordy and the kids had been taken. Running in through the door, Faith found herself in a dark room, one after another she shot the surprised Yemali soldiers in the head as they turned to stare at her.

Sensibly, Cordy grabbed the kids and headed for the floor covering them with her body as she did so. Before she’d killed everybody Faith’s rifle ran dry while there were still three uninjured Yemalies to deal with. Throwing her empty rifle at one, Faith leaped across the room and killed another with a blow that drove his nose up into his brain. Turning inhumanly fast, Faith was in time to see another soldier trying to get his weapon to fire while the selector lever was on ‘safe’. In one long pace she was standing in front of him. Taking his head in her hands she broke his neck before grabbing his rifle and smashing it into the jaw of the soldier she’d not killed when she’d first entered the room.

Just as Faith was about to grab another discarded rifle the room was filled with the sound of a long burst of automatic fire. In the light of the muzzle flash, Faith saw Yemali soldiers crumple into a bloody heap by the door as Cordy hosed them down with a captured rifle.

“Way to go, Marine!” Faith grinned as the soldiers stopped coming and Cordy stopped firing.

“OOO-RAH!” Cordelia cried triumphantly before adding, “That’s what happens when you mess with Queen C!”

0=0=0=0


	11. Chapter 11

11.

**The Whitehouse Situation Room.**

It was President Allen who noticed it first, mainly because she was the only one actually looking at the screen when the fighting broke out. General Allyson was in deep discussion with a Marine General and the rest of the room was filled with various aides who were doing the sort of stuff that aides usually did. Watching as the deal went sour, President Allen had frowned; this was like watching a silent movie without the useful story cards to tell you what the hell was going one. At first there’d been a lot of standing around then people had been pulled from vehicles and the next thing the President saw was the twinkling of muzzle flashes and men running and falling, it didn’t help that the drone was so high and the figures on the screen were so small.

“General Allyson!” President Allen called urgently, “What’s going on, can we get a better view of this?”

Turning towards the screen the white haired General took in the picture and what was happening on it in a second.

“Get that drone lower!” he ordered, “We need to see what’s going on down there, how far out are the Marines?”

“Still another twenty minutes, General,” a voice answered from the back of the room.

“Madam President,” General Allyson spoke softly so only the President could really hear him over the buzz of activity in the room, “I have every confidence in Miss Lehane’s ability to deal with the situation until the Marines arrive.”

0=0=0=0

**Neda, Yemalia.**

Firing a long burst out of the window next to the door, Faith discouraged a group of Yemali soldiers from rushing her position. Ducking back into cover she swapped magazines, it was time to get organised.

“You okay L-t?” Faith called.

“Oh, I’m just peachy, Chief!” Cordelia called from the back of the room.

“Right lets get organised,” Faith checked out of the window again, nothing had changed, “Okay L-t, can you check if there’s a back way out?” Faith remembered about Cordelia’s leg, “Polly?”

“Yes Ma’am,” came a small frightened voice from somewhere down on the floor.

“You’re the L-t’s walking stick,” Faith explained, “you’ll have to help her move about, you good with that?”

“Yes Ma’am!” this time the girl’s voice didn’t sound so frightened.

“Simon!” Faith paused to fire a burst at a Yemali who’d stuck his head around a corner to look at the building; he’d not do it again because she'd blown his head clean off, Faith turned to look at the boy, “Go round all the bodies and collect up the spare weapons and ammunition, right?”

The boy stared at Faith dumbly.

“Come on dickwad,” she snapped, “MOVE!”

Jerked out of his inactivity, Simon started to move around the bodies littering the room collecting up spare weapons and ammunition. Faith eyed the bodies lying in the door way, she really needed to close that door. At the moment anyone from across the street could see right into the room and make crossing from one side to the other very dangerous.

“Hey kid!” Faith called, “Bring some of those spare mags over here, would ya?”

Faith had just had a twinge in her stomach which usually meant something bad was about to happen. As she hadn’t eaten anything suspect in a while, she guessed the trouble was going to come from outside. Collecting up half a dozen spare magazines, Simon hurried over to Faith arriving just as she started to fire out of the window again.

“GET DOWN!” Faith yelled as she fired one long continuous burst at the charging Yemalies in the street.

Crouching down amid the falling hot brass cases, Simon sobbed like a little girl in his fear and really wished he knew why these bad things kept happening to him.

“MAG!” Faith yelled and held out her hand to the boy.

Sniffing back his tears, Simon fumbled one of the spare magazines into Faith’s grasp. Moments later the rifle started to fire again, however after only a few more seconds the firing stopped and every thing was quiet again.

“They won’t try that again for awhile,” Faith muttered as she swapped her half used magazine for a full one. “Hey, kid,” Faith looked down at Simon who was still cowering by her feet, “start taking rounds from the half full mags and load ‘em into spare mags to make full ones, thirty rounds to a mag, okay?” When Simon didn’t start to move straight away Faith yelled, “MOVE IT SOLDIER!”

Nervously, Simon started to do as he was told, thumbing the rounds out of the half full magazines and using them to fill the others.

“Hey, Chief!” Cordelia’s voice came from the door at the rear of the room, “No way out this way but I’ve found some sort of command post,” Cordy grinned, “its got radios and every thing.”

“Let’s see,” Faith glanced out of the window, the only movement was that of wounded men trying to crawl to cover, “Hey kid,” Faith looked down at Simon, “while I’m gone keep a look out and yell if you see anything…”

“First you want me to fill these things,” Simon held up the magazine in his hand, “now you want me to play look-out,” he continued with rising hysteria, “I wish you’d MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!!”

“Do both!” Faith replied levelly, “Or is that too hard for you?”

Not waiting for an answer, Faith made her way over to Cordy who led her into a dimly lit little room at the back of the building. Looking hopefully around, Faith saw a big radio and some maps pinned to the wall, there was also another AK leaning against the wall and someone’s personnel equipment hanging from a nail by the door.

“Does it work?” Faith asked gesturing at the radio, “Can you make it work?”

“It’s a radio,” Cordy shrugged, “okay all the lettering is in Russian or something, but if it’s got power I should be able to get it working.”

“Good,” Faith looked down at Polly who was supporting Cordy under her arm, “Hey kid,” Faith smiled, “go help ya brother, I gotta talk to the L-t a while.”

Without saying anything, Polly nodded, disentangled herself from Cordy and headed on out into the main room.

“What’s up, Faith?” Cordy eased herself down onto the rickety wooden chair next to the radio, “By the look on your face anyone would think we’re in trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, L-t,” Faith shrugged, “Look I’ll cut the bullshit, we’re in a hole here, so far those assholes out there have come at us dumb,” Faith jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the Yemalies. “Soon they're gonna figure out we can’t get out, then they’re either gonna outflank us an’ come in through the walls or ceiling, or, they’re gonna use an APC as cover and come in the front door.”

“You think?” Cordelia gave Faith a worried look, it seemed to her they’d jumped out of the frying pan and right slap into the middle of the fire.

“It’s what I’d do, L-t,” Faith replied as she cast a glance out into the main room to check everything was all right.

“Suggestions, recommendations?” Cordelia asked, it was time for her to step up and be the officer.

“We could surrender, I doubt they’ll shoot us out of hand,” Faith began, “or, we could sit here and fight it out; we might get lucky but I wouldn’t bet on it.” Faith paused for a second, “Or, you could get that radio working while I hold them off and you scream for help!”

“And if there’s no one to hear us?” Cordy wanted to know.

“Then we all die, but only after we’ve made their eyes water!” Faith replied with a grin before adding, “It’s up to you L-t.”

“Gee thanks,” Cordy frowned, “way to pass the buck much.”

“Hey, L-t,” Faith shrugged, “that’s why they pay you the ‘big’ bucks!”

“Yeah right,” Cordy knew there wasn’t really a choice, she knew exactly what she had to do, she’d do the Marine thing, “we fight and I’ll try to call for help.”

“On it!” Faith nodded, “Any other orders L-t?”

“Get outta here Chief,” Cordelia pointed to the door, “and don’t bug me until they’re coming in the doors and windows, okay?”

“No bugging, Ma’am,” Faith sketched a salute, “an’ if I don’t have time later, it’s been an’ honour an’ a privilege…even if ya are a Marine.”

“Semper Fi!” Cordy replied.

“Rangers lead the way!” Faith turned and walked back out into the main room.

0=0=0=0

“Nice of ‘em to keep quiet while I was having my chat with the L-t,” Faith said to no one in particular as she watched out the door.

The bodies were still preventing her from shutting the door, she needed to do something about that before the Yemalies did something. Looking down at Polly, Faith had an idea.

“Polly how heavy are you?” before the girl could answer, Faith had picked her up.

“Nothin’ at all.” Faith put the girl down before picking up a spare rifle and handing it to Simon after she’d cocked it. “Hold that and point it out the window, when I give the word you start firing and keep firing ‘til it runs dry, okay?”

“But I can’t…” Simon started to explain, but was shut down by Faith after only a few words.

“Shape up soldier an’ get with the program,” Faith told Simon in a voice that turned his heart to ice. “Okay, Polly,” Faith turned her attention to the girl, “what’s gonna happen is this. I’m gonna throw you to the other side of the door, then ya brother’s gonna start shooting while I drag those bodies out the way, then you shut the door, okay?”

“What…?” Simon started to say something but was once again interrupted by Faith.

“That wasn’t really a question,” Faith informed him before turning to Polly and picking her up, “Okay everyone set?”

“Uh-huh,” Polly nodded.

“As I’ll ever be,” Simon fingered his AK nervously.

“On three,” Faith said levelly, “One, two, THREE!”

Faith threw the girl who landed without a stumble as Simon started to fire wildly out the window. Crouching down in the doorway, Faith grabbed hold of the Yemali soldiers’ equipment harnesses and dragged them into the room. As soon as they were clear of the door, Polly slammed it closed. Simon kept on firing until his magazine ran dry and he slumped down under the window.

“Someone check ‘em for spare ammo,” Faith ordered as she picked up a rifle and looked out the window; much to her surprise she saw no movement but she could hear firing near by.

“Everything okay out there?” Cordy called from the inner room.

“Fine L-t,” Faith called back, “sounds like the Skinnies have got other problems besides us.”

“Good,” Cordy yelled, “coz this radio is a bitch!”

“Can’t ya get it to work?” Faith was torn between staying by the window and going to help Cordelia.

“Oh it works, okay,” Cordelia sounded mightily pissed at the radio, “but not only is everything in Russian but it’s all backwards as well!”

“Keep plugging away at it, Marine,” Faith smiled.

“Helpful as always, Army,” Cordy called back.

Listening to what sounded like a full scale battle going on outside, Faith accepted the spare magazines Polly had found on the dead Yemalies. Her brother had stayed by the window and had actually reloaded his rifle. He seemed more stable now than he had been.

“You okay?” Faith asked him quietly.

“Yeah,” Simon nodded before looking up into Faith’s face, “that was cool.”

“Yeah, right,” Faith smiled, she’d seen this sort of reaction before; some one being shit-scared until you gave them a chance to hit back then…everything changes, “You just be careful where you point that thing, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Simon nodded.

“Faith,” Polly called from over by the bodies where she’d been going through pouches and pockets looking for anything useful, she held up a grenade, “is this any use?”

0=0=0=0

After leaving his friend El Raisuli, Nadim Sawalha, Sherif of Wazan had driven back up to the ridge line where the Raisuli’s forces waited. He explained to the leaders what had happened, how the Pasha had gone back on the word of the American Pasha and captured their leader. In a dramatic gesture Sawalha had heaved the box of gold out onto the sand and spat on the bullion as it burst from its box.

Within minutes the Sherif of Wazan was leading the forces loyal to El Raisuli towards Neda in a wild motorized charge. The Yemali regulars under the command of their Chinese ‘advisers’ reacted quickly. By the time the rebels had reached a fold in the ground about one hundred metres from the outskirts of Neda almost a dozen Technicals lay burning on the sand between the ridge and the town. Once in cover, however, the rebels were able to bring the weapons mounted on the Technicals into action.

Machine guns barked and shells from recoilless rifles whooshed as they sped towards their targets. Explosions in the town blossomed into the sky as Yemali APC’s were hit by shells that punched easily through their thin armour. Dismounting from the backs of their Technicals the Raisuli’s fighters started to work their way forward under the covering fire of their own machine guns. It was as the Raisuli’s fighters started to close in on the town that the Yemali regulars started to waver. For a while the Chinese officers managed to keep the majority of the men under their control, but when a group of rebels gained a toe hold in the town, fear gripped the hearts of the defenders and they started to give ground with increasing speed. Despite everything the Chinese advisers could do the regulars started to fall back towards the north end of the town.

0=0=0=0

**Near the Yemali Coast.**

Once again, Lt Ring found himself leading Recon platoon into battle, only this time it was personal. He was going to rescue a woman he’d known years before; a woman who’d helped to turn him from a scared Butterball Lieutenant into a proper Marine officer. He was going to rescue Staff Sergeant Lehane, US Army, of course now she appeared to be a Warrant Officer in some army spec ops unit. But to him she’d always be ‘Staff Sergeant Lehane’ and possibly the scariest woman he’d ever met.

The briefing he’d been given and the updates he was receiving as they flew above the shark infested waters of the Indian Ocean told him that the situation was confused to say the least. Staff Sergeant Lehane, plus the two Neidermyer children and a possible Marine Officer called Lt Chase were hold up in a building on Neda main street. Around them were Yemali regulars who were trying to recapture or kill them. At the same time a rebel force was trying to get into the town for purposes of their own. The battle for Neda was turning into a real dogfight as both sides advanced and retreated and the recon drone lost contact with units.

His orders were to retrieve the hostages at _any_ cost, he was free to engage any force that in his judgement were hindering him in him mission. Along with the Super-Cobra gunships that were accompanying his transports he could call on the Harrier strike aircraft from the Task force if he needed heavier support.

Feeling someone tap him on his shoulder Lt Ring turned to see his platoon sergeant, ‘Stitch Jones’ the only other man still with the platoon who knew Faith Lehane from way back.

“FIVE MINUTES, L-T!” Jones yelled over the sound of the helo’s engine.

“ROGER THAT!” Ring gave a ‘thumbs-up’ before checking his weapon and equipment one last time before landing.

0=0=0=0


	12. Chapter 12

12.

**Valkyrie Station, Neda.**

“Hello any US station on this frequency,” Cordelia spoke into the microphone as she sat in the little dark room, “this is Valkyrie report my signal, over…” sitting hunched up next to the radio she listened intently before adding to herself, “…please.”

Over the last few minutes the firing outside had got heavier as someone either tried to get in or blow them to kingdom come. Whatever was going on Cordy had listened with concern to Faith’s increased return fire, she was just about to give up on the radio and go and help when she heard something faintly over her headphones, it sounded like an American voice answering her call.

“Hello American station this is Valkyrie receiving you strength five, over,” urgently Cordelia fiddled with the tuning dials trying to get a stronger signal; her heart jumped into her mouth as the signal suddenly got clearer.

It was definitely an American station although Cordy had no idea where or what it was, she was just about to congratulate herself on being such a radio-genius when the voice started to ask her questions. It asked her; what her full name was, what her social security number was, her mother’s maiden name, where she’d gone to school and so on. Quickly Cordy realised that whoever she was talking to wanted to confirm who she was before taking things any further.

0=0=0=0

**The Whitehouse Situation Room.**

“General Allyson,” an aide said quietly, “we’ve made contact with someone I think you should talk to.”

The General took the telephone the aide offered him and listen to the radio operator explain what was happening before telling him to put the call through.

“Hello, Lt Chase?” General Allyson waited a moment for the voice at the other end of the telephone to confirm her identity, “This is General Allyson at the Whitehouse, how’re you doing Marine?”

0=0=0=0

**Valkyrie Station, Neda.**

“FAITH!” Cordelia yelled over the sound of the continuing firefight.

“WHAT’S UP?” Faith called back; gunfire punctuating her words, “LITTLE BUSY OUT HERE!”

“I got through!” Cordy stopped yelling as there was a pause in the firing, “I got through to the freakin' Whitehouse!”

“Say what!” Faith turned away from the window she was covering and stared for a moment at the doorway to the room containing Cordy and her radio, “You’re screwing with me!”

“NO!” Cordy replied, “I’m…hold on wait….there’s more…”

Looking back out of the window, Faith was just in time to see half a dozen figures trying to move into firing positions on the other side of the street, she fired and saw two of them fall before a burst of fire impacted the mud brick wall just inches from her head.

0=0=0=0

**The Whitehouse Situation Room.**

“Madam President,” still holding the phone General Allyson turned to where President Allen was standing watching the battle feed from the recon drone a concerned look on her face; the marine rescue mission was still five minutes out. “I have Lt Chase on the line if you’d like to speak to her.”

“Lt Chase?” for a moment President Allen had to think about what the old soldier was telling her, after only a second's hesitation she took the phone from his hand. “Lt Chase this is President Allen, I’m so glad to hear your voice we all thought you were dead…how are you doing…?”

0=0=0=0

**Valkyrie Station, Neda.**

“…Madam President! Ma’am! Erm…” for one of the few times in her life Cordelia Chase was lost for words, however she soon found them again. “Well Ma’am,” Cordelia began, “considering we’re surrounded by bad guys who are out to kill us and we’re trapped in a mud brick house which is slowly being blown up around us I’d say we’re doing just peachy…Ma’am.”

Cordelia listened carefully to what her Commander in Chief had to say.

“Well, duh, Ma’am,” Cordy smiled, “of course we can hold, Chief Lehane is out there now making their eyes water…if you want I could grab the kids and lead a counter attack!”

Once again Cordy paused to let the President get a word in edgeways and tell her there was no need to launch any counter attacks.

“Yes, ma’am,” Cordy replied a little more soberly, “glad to hear the Marines are on their way, we’ll hold here, ma’am wait for them to arrive…thank-you ma’am…right back at you ma’am…gotta go now ma’am.”

Taking off the head phones, Cordy picked up her rifle and hopped over to the door, she saw Faith firing out the window as the kids loaded magazines and passed them to her.

“FAITH!” Cordy yelled over the sound of firing, “MARINES…FIVE MIN…!” Cordy was blown off her feet before she could finish what she was saying.

0=0=0=0

Even her super-soldier eyes couldn’t quite penetrate the clouds of dust and smoke that swirled up and down the street outside. Gunfire seemed to be coming from every direction as the battle ebbed and flowed around them. Lifting her rifle to her shoulder once more Faith fired a short burst at some dimly seen figures on the other side of the street, however she couldn’t see if they’d fallen. Deciding not to fire again, Faith looked down to check her ammunition. Sitting by her feet the two Neidermyer kids swapped rounds from magazine to magazine so she always got a full one; Faith noticed that the pile of full magazines was very small now. Well it couldn’t be helped she told herself before looking outside again just in time to see the RPG rocket heading towards her.

“FAITH!” Faith heard Cordelia’s voice from behind her, “MARINES…!”

“RPG!” Faith yelled just before the world exploded around her.

0=0=0=0

Flying low over the town the lead Super-Cobra gunship chewed up the roadway with the 20mm rotary cannon in its chin turret, banking away to the left the Cobra made way for the next gunship in line. The second helicopter reduced the group of hostiles who were firing up at the choppers to roughly butchered lumps of meat with the merest touch of its cannon before it too banked away to the left.

The lead UH1 flared for a landing as Lt Ring saw the ground come up to meet it.

“GO! GO! GO!” He yelled as he jumped from the helo and sprinted through the dust and smoke until he crashed into the wall of a house.

Within seconds of landing the helicopter was in the air again leaving Ring with a momentary feeling of isolation. Shaking off these feeling he glanced around to see the rest of his platoon deploy around him. Looking up into the sky he could see the Cobras circling his position like hungry sharks.

“COME ON YOU DEVIL DOGS!” Ring shouted what had become his battle cry, “FOLLOW ME!”

0=0=0=0

Finding herself lying on the floor, Cordy pushed herself upright and searched around for her rifle. The room was full of dust making it hard to see more than a few inches, she could just make out the hole in the wall were the door used to be, but the only thing she could hear was the painful ringing in her ears; of Faith and the kids she could see nothing. Forcing herself to stand up, Cordy caught the shapes of several figures entering the room through the hole. Not knowing if the figures where friend or foe Cordy lifted her rifle to waist height and prepared to defend herself.

“U-S MARINE!” Cordy yelled hearing herself like she was shouting through a layer of cotton wool; her call was answered by a wildly directed burst of fire that brought down half the ceiling.

Returning fire Cordy saw a couple of the man-shapes fall to the floor, the next moment the room was full of the sound of yelling and firing as more shapes piled into the room. Finding her rifle had stopped firing, Cordelia hopped towards her foes and used her weapon as a club. A big Arab in camouflaged fatigues loomed up in front of her and she noted how white his teeth looked before smashing them out with her rifle butt.

“BASTARD!” Cordy yelled as blood and teeth flew like shrapnel across the room, “USELESS FUCKERS…MESS WITH QUEEN ‘C’ WOULD YA!?”

Again she swung her rifle butt this time hitting someone on the side of the head. Just as she was about to smash her rifle into her opponent’s face and finish him off, Cordelia was hit from the side and forced to the floor. Suddenly she found herself fighting for her life against the heavy body on top of her. Biting, kicking, punching and gouging, Cordelia fought on, she’d told the President of the United States that they could hold, she wasn’t about to let her Commander in Chief down.

0=0=0=0

Shaking her head to rid it of the church bells that were stopping her from hearing properly, Faith pushed herself to her feet just in time to hear a burst of fire impact the ceiling above her, a moment later it was answered by a burst of fire that took the first firer down. Registering the figures trying to get into the room and recognising them as hostiles, Faith reached out to the nearest man, she grabbed him by his chin and the back of his head. With a shrug of her shoulders she twisted his head violently to the right and felt his neck snap. Letting her first victim fall to the ground, she punched her next target in the throat, gasping for breath the man fell to the ground where he quickly choked to death.

Grabbing another man she used his body as a shield as yet another enemy fired blindly into the room. Faith felt rounds impacting the body she was holding in front of her as she pushed it towards the firer. Slamming into the man with the gun, Faith dropped her shield, wrapped her hands around her target’s neck and lifted him off his feet and smashed his head into the top of the door frame. Letting him fall limply to the floor, she realised that there were no more men trying to get into their refuge. Satisfied it was safe to turn her back on the door, at least for a while, she turned to see Cordelia struggling with two men on the floor.

“Way to go, L-t!” Faith muttered as she strode across the room and grabbed the two men by the collars of their jackets.

With a grunt she heaved them off the struggling Marine, throwing one man into the wall she broke the neck of the other and let him fall in time to catch the other man as he bounced off the wall and back into her deadly embrace. There was a dry branch snapping sound as she broke his neck before letting him fall to the ground to join his comrade.

“You okay L-t?” Faith reached out to take hold of Cordelia’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Just fine,” Cordelia admitted as she spat, hair, blood and pieces of ear from her mouth.

“Kids?” Faith turned to look for the children.

“We’re okay, ma’am,” Simon called as he and his sister appeared from behind an over turned table.

“Okay people,” Faith said determinedly, “just because we kicked their asses doesn’t mean we can slack off, lets get this place into a state of defence, okay L-t?”

“Right on Chief!” Cordelia nodded as she hobbled over to a rifle and picked it up off the floor; just as she was straightening up she saw more figures in the door way, “Oh shit,” she sighed, “Give me a break would you?”

“U-S MARINES! U-S MARINES!” Yelled a multitude of voices as men in the uniform of the United State Marines burst into the room.

“U-S-A FRIENDLIES!” Faith called back as she raised her hands.

“Corpsman!” a voice that Faith thought she recognised called out.

Lowering her hands as a Navy Corpsman gave her a perfunctory check before moving on to Cordelia and the kids, Faith looked closely at the Marine Staff Sergeant who was grinning at her like a fool.

“Stitch?” Faith asked uncertainly, “Stitch Jones?”

“That’s Staff Sergeant Stitch Jones,” Stitch replied, “Lt Ring’s around here somewhere…”

As if by magic the man in question appeared in front of Faith.

“Outstanding, Chief,” Ring pumped Faith’s hand, “Outstanding, but nothing I wouldn’t expect from an honorary Marine.”

“Thanks L-t, but Lt Chase had a lot to do with it too,” Faith smiled, “but it’s no more than I’d expect from an honorary Ranger!”

“Yeah sure,” Lt Ring smiled, “now lets leave the congratulations ‘til later, I’ve got some choppers to take you to hot showers and hot chow…lets move it Marines!”

0=0=0=0

**A Ridgeline over looking Neda.**

The sun was sinking over the hills behind them as two men stared down at the smoke shrouded town below. The Pasha’s forces had been defeated, but the cost had been so high there would be no Jihad this year. But at least the Americans had come and taken back their people so something had been achieved and the Raisuli’s honour had been restored.

“My friend,” Sawalha said quietly to the man standing next to him, “we have lost everything…all is drifting on the wind as you said,” he shook his head sadly before repeating, “We have lost everything.” 

“Sawalha,” El Raisuli smiled his teeth white in the dusk, “is there not one thing in your life that is worth losing everything for?”

Both men began to laugh before turning their backs on the burning town and walking back into the desert.

0=0=0=0

**The Epilogue.**

**The Whitehouse, One month later.**

“How y’doin’ L-t?” Faith smiled as she walked into the room and saw Cordelia sitting in her wheel chair by the window.

The two women looked at each other in silence for a moment; Faith admired Cordy’s dress blues and felt a little dowdy in her own dress uniform. They were here to see the President, have their photos taken and have medals pinned on them.

“Not so bad,” Cordy forced a smile, “they had to re-break my leg and set it properly but I’ll be up and about again before the months out.” Cordy’s smile became a little more genuine as she looked Faith up and down, “You look disgustingly healthy!”

“Ha!” Faith laughed, “I’ve been sittin’ on my butt for the last month with my mom feeding me milk ‘n’ cookies until I nearly burst.”

“So,” Cordelia changed the subject to something that had been puzzling her, “what I don’t understand is why I’m getting a medal? All I did was crash, get my legs broken, get captured and sit on my butt for nearly six months…”

“You survived,” Faith pointed out, “ya never gave up and when you saw an opportunity for escape that had a chance of succeeding ya took it.”

“Okay,” Cordy shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “but that was mainly you, Faith.”

“And ya saved my butt when I was down an’ out at the end there,” Faith smiled down at her friend, “an’ the way you were beatin’ on those two guys…”

“Yeah I did that didn’t I?” a big toothy smile spread across Cordelia’s face all doubts forgotten, “Hey, I am good aren’t I?”

“Ya sure as hell are, L-t,” Faith nodded and then turned as a door opened behind her.

“The President is ready for you now,” announced an aide as he walked across the room to take hold of Cordelia’s chair.

“Hey,” Faith got to the chair before the aide did, she gave the guy a warm smile, “I’ll do that.”

“There’s no need Chief,” the aide replied, “I can…”

“Hey look,” Faith lost some of the warmth from her eyes, “she’s my friend an’ it’s an honour to push her around.”

“What’d you mean?” Cordelia asked quietly catching Faith’s double meaning, “Push me around?”

“Look,” Faith started to push Cordelia towards the door as she followed the aide, “I’m a Ranger you’re a Marine you’d do the same for me so live with it.”

Stepping towards the door, the aide signalled them to wait for a moment as he opened the door to the Oval Office.

“Madam President,” called the aide, “Lieutenant Cordelia Chase, United States Marines Corps and Chief Warrant Officer Faith Lehane, US Army Rangers to see you.”

“Show them in Vincent,” replied the President.

0=0=0=0

After their medals had been pinned on their chests and their photos taken, President Allen spoke with Faith and Cordelia for a few minutes before having to get back to her more mundane work, she did however show them to the door herself and as she did so she glanced at Faith’s other medal ribbons.

“Just how often have you been wounded, Chief?” The President asked in a low voice.

“Too often, Ma’am,” Faith replied with a shrug, “I lose count sometimes, it comes with the territory, ya know?”

“I think I do,” President Allen shook both Faith’s and Cordy’s hands again, “I’m very proud of you, both of you…”

“Oh Ma’am,” Faith paused before leaving the Oval Office, “I have something for ya…”

”For me?” President Allen replied a little surprised.

“El Raisuli musta slipped it in my pocket,” Faith handed a stained and crumpled envelope to the President, “I think he wanted you to read this, Ma’am.”

“Thank-you,” President Allen took the battered piece of paper, “I’ll be sure to do that.”

0=0=0=0

After the two women had left her office, President Allen sat at her desk and looked at the note that Faith had given her. She knew she shouldn’t, her Secret Service protection detail would have a fit if she just opened it here in her office, they’d want to X-ray it and check it for poison. But, from everything she’d been told, El Raisuli was an honourable man, he wouldn’t try to poison her she felt sure. Casting caution to the wind, President Allen picked up a letter opener and slit open the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of note paper inside. After putting on her glasses and unfolding the note she started to read;

_To President Allen,  
You are like the Wind and I like the Lion. You form the Tempest. The sand stings my eyes and the Ground is parched. I roar in defiance but you do not hear. But between us there is a difference. I, like the lion, must remain in my place. While you like the wind will never know yours. _

_Mulai Ahmed El Raisuli the Magnificent, Defender of the Faithful, Lord of the Riff._

The End.


End file.
